#with the underlying message being. the thing that’s hurting you the most is your own anxiety. which sounds obvious lol

[itspileofgoodthings]

i love my counselor because she refuses to pry. don’t even know if she knows that’s an option, I have so rarely met a person who stays so thoroughly in her lane.

[eepywriters]

I LOVED YOUR MESSAGES WITH QUACKITY ❤️❤️❤️

please do getting into an agrument with quackity headcanons please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻😙😙🫣‼️💕💕🩷🩷

.✦°. • getting into an argument hcs (*´Д｀*)

warnings: a bit of angst and maybe a bit ooc? I tried 😞🤚🏻

a/n: HIII!! THANK U SO MUCH! It means a lot :D and sorry if it took so long ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ finals kicked my ass so I couldn’t write for a while BUT IM HERE SO LET’S GET INTO IT

EARLY INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

(thinking of a young, little experienced Alex)

Oh it’s jover

This could actually be something that could cause a breakup cuz let me tell you THIS MAN just can’t stand confrontation

If it’s something that bugged you, he’d probably understand your point of view but would also be very overwhelmed at the thought of losing you cause he hasn’t been good enough for you, resulting in him hyper focusing on his spiraling thoughts rather than listening to what you are saying

I feel like he’d also be the type to act like nothing happened right after an argument; he’d ignore the tense situation and make jokes to light up the mood and forget about it. He’s not dense, he knows it hurts you to see him seemingly ignore your feelings like that, but he’s not used to being listened so he ends up making his partner go trough his predicament as well

BUT it’s even worse if it’s something that bugged HIM; he probably wouldn’t tell you about it, much preferring to suck it up and don’t cause problems, even though he IS creating more problems

the underlying tension caused by his silence would bring the relationship to a breaking point:

1 you break up and the regret eats him up (probably also wouldn’t reach out again because of shame and a tiny bit of ego)

2 you talk about it cause it can’t go on like this

When I talk about bugging tho, I’m thinking about things that don’t surge an immediate reaction from him, because if he’s mad, he’s mad.

He’s the venomous type, forget his silence and self pity, he’ll probably laugh in your face in irritation and say whatever the fuck he thinks

He’ll retreat to his office as soon as he sees the hurt in your face, understanding he went to far and going back to he’s usual silence, ending up giving you the silence treatment. (he also feels incredibly ashamed) (he’ll just stay in his office all day, editing mindlessly since his mind is anywhere but in the work he’s doing)

He’ll either leave you alone in bed that day, making you sulk and feel as lonely as ever, or will sleep with you but it’ll be the coldest shit ever (like the typical movie scene where two people sleep super afar from each other)

Don’t misunderstand tho, he does feel guilty, he just struggles with communicating his feelings properly (*´ー｀*)

“(Name) I’m not a child, stop acting like you are my fucking mom” he spat, a look of indignation spreading on his features, shaping his otherwise gentle appearance into a strong, furious one.

“Cant you understand that I’m worried about you?” you strike back, jaw impossibly tightened “I understand that you’re very dedicated to your job, but you can’t get yourself to this state.” You sigh, not able to keep up the mad act: “You look very tired Alex”.

You take a tentative step towards him, determined to show him you weren’t scolding him, nor were you mad at him. You were trying to establish contact with him, not start a fight, after all your irritation came from worry, not anger. But he didn’t receive that well. His brows scrunching even further while his mouth twitches downwards.

“Stop acting like I’m some fucking rabid animal. I can take care of myself just fine, I don’t need a fucking babysitter”.

Seems that wasn’t the right move.

The way he was saying your name was probably what hurt the most. You find yourself missing the gentle tone he usually reserved to it when spoken.

“What are you even saying?” you breathe out, your voice being so fragile you almost don’t recognize it as your own. “Do you hear what you are saying? You are being impossible Alex”.

At this point his foot is stomping nervously on the floor. He’s getting annoyed by the minute and he can’t wait to forget about this tense situation. Arguments always put him on edge, but instead of working on the root cause of his discomfort, he always had preferred to just get himself out of the mess as soon as possible. (He hadn’t yet grasped how much that could hurt others). And that’s why, out of everything he could’ve gone, he replied with the one of the most uncalled for things he could ever come up with.

“Maybe instead of worrying about me, you should take a good look at yourself first”.

And you know what he was trying to entail.

You were never insecure of your dark circles, or at least, it wasn’t something that bugged you on the daily ever since you had found a common ground with Alex, knowing he struggled with very prominent circles cause of his lack of sleep. But for someone like him, who always had a hard time with his appearance, to clap back at you by going for your looks? Foul. Unexpected. Not like him at all.

You were sure he could tell from the look of disbelief on your face that he had fucked up.

Alex’s breathing keeps up, his chest constricts, and the anger and the pride that he has wearing like a tailored suit are stripped out of him at the sight of your frown. His mind goes haywire trying to come up with any response.

Maybe if you would’ve known him better by then, you would’ve known how terrified he was of your judgment. Even though his fame often had him deal with horrible comments filled with free hate, if judgement came from you, it scarred 100 times more than anything could ever do.

“Just leave it be, I’m fine” it’s all he mutters before booking it and hiding himself in his office, leaving you to stand there, in the middle of your living room.

Tears prickle your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment and your lip begs you for mercy as you bite into it.

God, why was communicating so difficult in this house?

LONG INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

It took time, it took healing, it took sitting down and TALKING to finally find your balance

He’s still pretty much venomous when it comes to immediate triggers, but after you are both done fighting and cursing each other out, you talk about it and come out of it somewhat unscathed

Anger isn’t easy to control or refrain after all, but you both try your best, and you are able to make up most of the times without falling into old dynamics of silent treatment or isolation

If something bugs him, he most likely will tell you; he is hesitant about it, but after many nights spent in your arms, he starts to let go on some of his biggest worries (anxiety still gnaws at his core every time he opens his mouth though, that doesn’t get old at all)

If something bugs you, he doesn’t shy away from confrontation anymore; he’s not perfect at it either, he still feels the urge to run away and laugh about it all, but he’s gotten way better at it

He’s still very scared of you having a negative opinion about him, but now you know him well enough to spend some extra time to reassure him that you won’t stop loving him for a petty fight, and that arguments in relationship are important to grow not only as a couple, but as people too

“(Name)” he calls out, and you instantly recognize the hint of anxiety that he’s trying to hide from you.

“Yes honey?” you reply, taking your eyes off your phone to stare into his pretty, brown ones. They screamed stress, fear, yet also determination. He did so much progress compared to the beginnings of your relationship. You were proud of him.

Alex took a deep breath before saying: “Uhm, It’s about the photo of us you posted earlier”. You could practically smell the tension in the air. His body is stiff, his chest is heaving, but your gaze is captured by his fingers and by how his nails are digging into them continuously, tearing his already red skin.

You take his hands in yours, preventing him from doing further damage to his poor, abused fingers. You knew he does it as a way to ground himself, but he really needed to find a new coping method - one that didn’t feature him torturing his body if possible.

He stares at his hands in yours for a while. You don’t say anything, allowing him to take his time.

“Okay fuck it” Alex whispers under his breath, so quietly you almost miss it.

“It makes me feel insecure, I don’t like it” he admits, keeping his focus on your hands as he munches his bottom lip nervously. You, in response, draw slow circles on his hands, offering him a gentle smile.

“Can you delete it..?” he sounds unsure, like he’s testing the waters instead of actually making a request. Either way you welcome it.

You put one of your fingers under his chin, gently applying pressure for him to lift his head, just enough to look at you. “Of course I can. Thank you for telling me Alex, I know it’s hard”. His once tense body relaxes.

He avoids your tender gaze, seemingly preferring to stare at the floor, yet you see the soft blush that was quickly taking over his cheeks. You also can’t help but notice that he already had found his charming smile back.

“Stop looking at me like that” he mumbles as his smile spreads. Uh oh, that can only mean trouble.

“Like what” your eyes narrow, not trusting his new found confidence.

“Like this”.

His imitation is pitiful: furrowed eyebrows, small frown and large puppy dog eyes. The more you look at him, the more he reminds you of that one emo guy that kind of looks like him (he definitely does). He looks ridiculous. How did you even fall in love with this dude?

You slap his arm, scoffing out a laugh as you look at him incredulous: “I don’t look like that!”.

“I think you do” he says with a smug tone, one that makes you want to hit him with a pillow till he goes back to sleep. And maybe you just will.

“Oh it’s on you motherf-“

The room was filled with laughter instead of unconfortable, loud silence.

(first post of 2024 yippiee)

[sordidmusings]

The Wrong Rest

Art by attyrocious

Summary: Everything exhausts you and you see no end and no way to fix it. Too scared to go alone, you find comfort next to the one you love: Trafalgar Law.

A/N: Very indulgent for Specific Angsts lol it’s a repost - had it up for a vERY short while but deleted it in shame LOL here goes take two 🙏🏻 this has an ambiguous ending and in my WIPs I have a good and bad ending I’ve been toying with. There’s a quick message on the dark topic of this fic at the bottom of the post. Please heed warnings if they pertain to you

Word Count: ~1.5 k

Warnings: gn reader, suicide attempt, abuse of pills, portrayal of it as Bad but it is sympathetic to the attempt, do N O T take this as promotion of the idea, been on both sides and it’s a Bad Time no matter what our brains tell us lmaooooo, but sometimes it’s nice to engage with the topic in fantasy to scratch the itch of someone specific caring the way you think would fix it and that’s what this is from, both endings will more thoroughly cover Consequences and why it’s Bad

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Law had noticed something jittery about you when you slid into bed that night. It was a change from the distance you’d both been hosting, but he wasn’t sure if it was a welcome one yet. He eyed you with suspicion that he thought was masked, but you knew him much too well. You knew all his tells, all his hurts, all his habits. You cherished each one and always wondered why you got to be there for them.

The distance you’d felt from him made you consider it over and over and over again. You weren’t able to love him enough. You felt you’ve tried everything you were capable of to offer him peace and safety and relief and joy but it wasn’t enough. It was an easy cycle of thought to fall into - your brain had long learned to fault you for things both within and without your control. You were certain they were faults born of inadequacy, inaction, and an inherent lack of value in the core of your being. Another day, another verse in the song you’d been singing since you could form words.

Law used to help you fight that. You had barely let him know the extent of it, but building a relationship with him had been your life’s most beautiful blessing and distraction. Him being a part of your life - him actually wanting you to be a part of his - had given you enough ammunition to properly engage and push back your warring thoughts. Unfortunately, they were patient and steady and gaining ground inch by inch with each falter of your strength to take care of your own mind.

You would have never guessed at the hours worth of unspoken words and worries that were laying right beside you. Law was so full of them he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. There was a point between their inception and their overwhelm that he had stopped being able to bring them to you. If he spoke them then it made them real, it made his fears real, and he was beyond incapable of handling that. To think that the guesses of where your growing depression was headed could come true choked the air from his lungs and made him desperately run from the thought. Underlying his terror at your disappearing spark were vicious notions that it was his fault. He was meant to care for you and help you and love you, and he felt he had fallen short. He couldn’t face the idea that he had trapped you to him and strangled the life out of you with his inability to support you like you needed.

Your continued jitters were born from guilt but also so much potent excitement and fear. A tiny pit of the most shameful pride you’ve ever mustered kindled in you too. It was all from a plan finally put to action, a certainty that you’d be relieving everyone, especially your dearest love, and the awaiting of the unknown. Sure, there were some things you can expect, but absolutely no one knew where you were headed, including yourself.

Some of the expected pains came to you about an hour after you laid next to Law and began watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. As of late, he had taken to turning away from you, more proof to yourself that you weren’t wanted. It ached to see his back when you knew the love of his embrace. You knew the blissful heat of his tattooed chest taking the place of your pillow, knew the wonder of hearing his heartbeat - of hearing it skip for you. You knew how sweet his hands could be when they trailed over you, roaming and massaging you as if he hoped he could work his immense affection right through your skin so you could understand its depth and breadth and keep it with you forever.

The pains in your chest became worse than the ones you usually felt. Your heart had begun fighting something it’s never known before. The racing and pumping of it left your skin pounding with heat and anxiety that you diligently tried to breathe through. Your eyes misted when it was accompanied by a twisting starting at your stomach and moving down the rest of your guts. Still, you simply breathed. The last thing you wanted was to wake and upset the man next to you. You knew in some piece of you that he’d be upset eventually, that it was cruel to lay this scene out right next to him, but you were too scared to be alone and you selfishly wanted as much of Law as you could have left. And you were certain it would get better with your absence. Over time, he’d see that too.

You felt the pit in your stomach worsen, the pain now pungent and biting. Instead of sharp cramps, it felt like actual hot pokers were playing with your insides and splitting you apart. You knew it would be there and tried to prepare, but your teeth still ground and your eyes still watered and it took everything in you not to let out a whimper. 

You turned your head to the side, slower than you think you’d ever moved before. Even with the writhing agony inside you squirming in a flurry, your body felt like a haphazard pile of sandbags. In a pathetic flop that took way too much energy, you got your hand resting against the skin on Law’s lower back. The small tether to something beloved and alive brought you a tiny comfort but also bitter longing. A sense of mourning began to root through your heart from the finality you felt building between your touching skin. You’d always loved Law’s touch, whether he gave it or you sought it. It always lit your skin up wherever it went, giving you either invigorating tingles or soothing warmth. That mourning grew by the second as your skin numbed over, replacing that vital warmth with boiling pinpricks.

Law fidgeted briefly in his sleep, roused by your hand bumping him. A deep sigh pressed him closer then shrank him further from your touch. Stuck limp and staring at the blurring ceiling, you could only listen as he shuffled and repositioned. At this point you couldn’t tell if he moved away from you or not; your hands had moved past feeling numb to feeling much too ballooned to send any real sense of touch to your brain.

“Mmnnn, go back t’ sleep,” he mumbled, barely coherent. You still enjoyed that deep rasp that you loved so so much. Even if it sounded tired and a twinge annoyed. “I’m tired, ‘s late.”

You responded with silence, tongue much too thick and dry to form words. You weren’t sure if your chest was even moving to breathe at this point, but it must be because you were still stuck in your body, stuck staring at the ceiling, stuck feeling your insides shred themselves apart. Instead of the feeling that you were bothering him, you focused on what was left of the feeling of his skin on yours. Through that ballooning and those pin pricks was the ghost of his body heat. The warmth, familiar even through dying nerves, felt comforting and beautiful, but it only made you cry more. It was probably the strangest cry you’d ever had; it was every emotion at once and yet you felt so hollow. The fact that you could only let your eyes leak and couldn’t even muster a sob didn’t help with it feeling like some farce.

But the warmth next to you was real. The radiant warmth that was seeping from your love into the sheets and your body remained, and if you concentrated enough you thought you could still feel warmth reaching through the hand you’d moved to him. The heaviness settling on your chest was real too. It started to fully halt each inhale with the potency of its weight. You thought it would be terrifying, but instead you were now fuzzy and light. Your head was spinning (probably lack of oxygen, you thought distantly, or maybe I’m high) and your body was sinking and you felt like your bones were already in the dirt.

You weren’t sure when your eyes shut - it was a second ago and a year as well in the murky dark depths of time and sensation. The stabbing pain in your gut felt like someone else's. You knew it was there, but it no longer affected you. It couldn’t through the all encompassing and smothering dark that was pulling you down and out of your body. It was cold, but it was quiet. Something similar to peaceful but not quite. The feeling that was certain was relief. It permeated everything despite the distant shaking of your the body and a hollering voice. The voice was a bit familiar, but you’d never heard such panic distort it before. You couldn’t bring yourself to think on it; everything was so far from you.

You would have smiled if the muscles in your face worked.

How lovely it is…

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

No tags in this one cuz I feel Guilty with the dark topic LOL

Now for a brief psa: I don't want to preach because I know from experience how that doesn't exactly work. Each platitude feels more and more like a lie the longer the feeling persists. What I will say is that it matters. It matters that you're struggling. It matters that you're suffering. It matters that you're trying. It matters that you're hurt. It's not fair to have to deal with it all the time and it's not fair how life simply happens around something so gargantuan taking place inside you, making it seem insignificant and/or made up.

If people act like it's not a big deal, please do not try to use that as proof. That is a dark game on a false premise where no one wins. If they truly mean it, they are an abusive and cruel person and shouldn't be listened to. If they are a normal person, they are likely treating it lightly because they can't conceptualize it happening because of how upsetting the concept is NOT because the concept isn't upsetting.

I'm trying to keep this brief so I will leave it at that. My messages are always open - I have periods where I am inactive so if I don't get to something it's because I haven't seen it not because I don't care.

Here is a link to a post full of prevention hotlines of various kinds and also from many countries and this one that has suicide prevention hotlines for 56 different countries.

Stay safe 🤍🤍🤍

[judejazzaluvr]

She’s a Man Eater

Jude Jazza x Reader, Kate (canon mc) x William Rex

Synopsis: The Crown is hosting a ball, the first since Kate started as Fairytale Keeper, and she’s so excited to meet everyone. Enter Y/N, Jude’s beautiful, charming date.

(Or, the one where Kate and Y/N get to know each other.)

Warnings: Fem pronouns, use of Y/N, Jude being Jude, idek if these count as warnings bye

The air of the Crown’s castle is electric tonight, and Kate doesn’t think she’s ever experienced anything quite as exquisite before.

As a simple mail-carrier, she isn’t the most well-off, so having joined the Crown has allowed her to experience a lot more than her small world had to offer.

“Why don’t you go find someone to talk to?” William suggests, breaking Kate out of her stupor. “I have some business with Victor to deal with first.”

“Okay,” she agrees easily, and he presses a kiss to the back of her hand before disappearing into the crowd.

As she navigates the ballroom, she looks for anyone that seems out-of-place or lonely, so that she can potentially keep them some company.

She spots her target only minutes after she begins. A beautiful woman standing near the windows alone, sipping a flute of champagne.

Her own drink in hand, Kate takes a deep breath before approaching the woman.

“Hello.”

The woman seems surprised at the approach, but flashes Kate a smile nonetheless.

“Hello there.”

“You’re… Jude’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

The woman chuckles.

“‘Girlfriend’ is a bit much,” she admits.

Her voice is low and seductive, and Kate doesn’t wonder why Jude chose this woman.

“You came with him though.”

“That I did. Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, I’m Kate.”

“Ah,” Y/N seems to have a sudden realization as her eyes light up. “Kate, the Fairytale Keeper, no? Jude told me about you.”

That has Kate’s eyebrows raising.

“I’m surprised to hear that. He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“He’s like that with everyone, don’t worry,” Y/N says, eyes flickering over to the man and back to Kate. If it wasn’t just a trick of the light, Kate could almost swear she saw Y/N’s eyes soften for a moment.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Kate takes a sip of her champagne. “I love your dress, by the way. It’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you. Jude got it for me.” Y/N does a little spin, making both of them laugh. “He does have an eye for these things, I will admit.”

The two women continue to chat, a little about themselves but mostly about the Crown, when Y/N’s eyes get a particular gleam to them.

“Tell me, Kate, do you have an eye on one of the Crown members?”

Startled, Kate blinks.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Have any of the men caught your interest?”

“Well…”

Y/N smiles knowingly and doesn’t give Kate a chance to answer properly before speaking.

“I saw you with William.”

“Oh,” Kate says dumbly, “you did?”

“You make a cute couple. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

There’s an underlying message to Y/N’s words that Kate catches onto, but they’re interrupted before she has the chance to ask what she means.

“Ya girls gettin along?” Jude’s sharp gaze makes Kate wince, but Y/N just smiles sweetly at him.

(And if Jude’s gaze isn’t as jagged when he looks at Y/N, what about it?)

“Like two peas in a pod,” Y/N says.

“You should bring Y/N around more. I really like her.”

He huffs at that and mutters something about not wanting to share, but Kate doesn’t quite catch it. Y/N does, though, and she laughs.

“Don’t worry, Jude, I’m all yours.”

“Like I was worried about that,” he rolls his eyes, yet his hand still rests on Y/N’s waist possessively.

Kate takes one look at the couple and smiles to herself. They look so cute. Unfortunately for her, Jude catches her smile.

“What are ya makin that face for? Go to William if you wanna look stupid.”

Instead of being upset at his words, Kate’s smile only grows.

“I will. See you around, Y/N.”

A/N: Short but sweet? I think it’s okay for my first officially published (on Tumblr) fic. Hopefully I only get better with practice 💪

[undertalebabbleblog]

Fellverse Collars

Okay… here we go! This was one of the first rants I ever made that was actually useful somewhere along the way instead of just being what it was… a rant to my closest of close people who GET the fandom (AKA: the only person willing to listen to me and put up with my crap at that time in the morning and still talked to me the day after despite the previous 5+ hours I’d been asking at them. When they are still willing to respond to your messages 4h later- 9am -you KNOW they’re a keeper) So I figured here is as good a place and time to start as any…

[Especially considering I was TODAY years old when they let me know that discord chats have a SEARCH function… anyone else been spamming the ‘page up’ button for hours like your life depended on it? HANDS UP ✋]

SO without further ado~

I bring to you my explanation of the meanings of collars in the different fellverses! [This will be heavily based in the UTMV if you hadn’t guessed - focusing on underfell; Edge and Red, and fellswap; Black (or interchangeably Razz) and Mutt]

So CONTEXT- I was brought into this rant by a question from a friend asking me to explain fell universe collars to them (obviously), since they’re mentioned quite a bit throughout the fandom where the fellverses are concerned, but the variation between the meanings really confused them, and its not like they really had a solid definition to depend and lean on for info on it because the concept was mainly based in fannon. So they came to me. Because I apparently give off the vibe of knowing this. Good thing I ACTUALLY had an answer lol

BASICALLY~~~

In the simplest of terms, quickest way I could put it, and perhaps one of the most obvious of facts: The collars are a sign of ownership.

Think of underfell’s resident skele bros (Most commonly known as Edge and Red throughout the fandom), Edge literally OWNS red.

This could be interpreted in a whole bunch of different ways, but it all boils down to Red being practically either a pet or just straight up property to Edge.

It’s there to send a message. If someone were to hurt red it would be the equivalent of property damage… Or kicking his puppy… It lets people KNOW that if they mess with Red, Edge is going to get, understandably, pissed. It’s a protective measure.

When it comes to fellswap the underlying theme of ownership is the same, but it’s the context that differs. While Edge has his status, it is mainly his formidable battle and trapping prowess and infamy that makes the collar an effective safety measure. When it comes to fellswap the protection the collar offers is more of a proof of subjugation and the rising of said ‘owners’ status.

In fellswap Mutt was was viewed as a fierce foe, whom of which the majority of the underground were terrified of, knowing him and his brother Black by the name of ‘the queens guard dogs’. Having Black collar Mutt raises Blacks own infamy and labels him as some untouchable higher power, despite the lowness of his HP, which ordinarily would spell death for a monster of his world.

Their world is one in which family ties mean next to nothing in the grand scheme of things, they were merely a weak point to exploit. The chink in their armour. It was either that of a form of unsteady alliance with trust in which you’d trust the other to turn on you in a heart beat when push comes to shove.

The collaring is the closest they could come to showing they could care. The only form of tie that holds meaning and makes you stronger. Someone that people wouldn’t want to mess with.

Although that is mainly interpretation based off of the way the fandom flows, while underfell is a little more reliably set fellswap if most DEFINITELY more of a concept than a set idea.

If you needed this cleared up hope it did that for you!

If you didnt… hope you at least found it either entertaining or informative enough to be worth the time spent reading this!

[burning-sol]

Too much of a pussy to interact the post directly but um. Re: genderbends and feminism

I think you’re entirely right to bring up how easy that passive hostility can become transphobia but I also think the idea that most genderbends are trans hcs is a bit of a spiders George moment. We (you and I) have cultivated a space we feel safe in that is predominantly populated by trans people who will talk about trans things- in the wider fandomspace there are still a lot of cis people who completely misunderstand what a genderbend has the potential to be. Obviously the years have brought good things and a lot has changed for the better, but there are still a lot of people who do in fact genderbend a dude character they like into a cis girl and you can tell by the way they write her they have no idea what they’re doing and generally little understanding of girls or girlhood. But attacking all genderbends and making the assumption that they’re all that is certainly not the way to go about it; like you said, a lot of people actually have trans hcs and sort of reclaim the r63 trend. But it is important to recognize there’s a larger problem of media not having girl characters with depth, or having those characters but they’re massively set aside for a dude. There’s no shame in enjoying the guy character more, speaking from experience, like you said let ppl on the internet do what they want. But also indulge taking a deeper look at the women, and recognize the bigger issue. I will defend every badly written woman with everything I have but I will also defend every fandom-decided transwoman with everything I have as well. They’re sisters. Super Sorry if this is a weird ask I felt like adding my perspective, bc ur right but I see. More

No need to belittle yourself, I know how anxiety inducing it can be to reply to something off anon, what matters is that you were polite and thoughtful. So lemme address your point. Post being talked about for context.

I think I did misword my post, you're absolutely right, but what I was trying to get across is that I suppose I hypothesise a lot of "genderbends" may only be perceived like that from the outside without the neccessary context. This is based on how I reflected on my own headcanons and how they can be outwardly percieved, and also my experience in fandom. For example, my interpretation of an AU character (William Wight) could easily be viewed as a genderbend without the context of personal thoughts and the fact I headcanon William Wisp (the og character) as PRE-transition, especially since another character from that AU I have genderbent. So it wasn't strictly about genderbending actually being trans headcanons, it's about how if you're without context, genderbending can be a misinterpretation of a trans headcanon.

But you're right, I too closely conflated them, giving overall the wrong message about genderbending and invalidating the feelings of people who just enjoy the trope without the trans aspect. There's a lot of people out there who genderbend not knowing anything about transness, that could easily be a misinterpretation, it was based on my experiences and not any hard data. I also projected onto the people reblogging that post that they wouldn't have the eye to make a disceration between the two.. Which, I have no clue either way, who knows. But thankfully, I don't think any of this takes away from the point being made or hurts anyone too severely. I hope that anyone who feels misrepresented can still understand the post regardless of how I may have offended them, because the underlying transphobia is the bigger issue. And also, to reinforce it again, I AGREE with OP in the right context, I think it's a real phenomena, but I try to be critical of posts if they start to widely circulate without anyone pointing out what can be a potentially harmful idea.

Also to consider as a note though: genderbending can be a precursor to being trans as a form of experimentation. So yes, it is still worth taking into the consideration what you're saying about people who genderbend characters, you have no idea what they're going through even if they claim not to be trans, things can change. But even further beyond that, I focused on trans people for obvious reasons, it's shitty to be targeting a minorty.. But if you're nodding along with my post like, "oh yeah, it's okay if TRANS people genderbend characters, but ANYONE ELSE isn't allowed to" umg. Well. That can still be transphobia, or just generally a dick thing to do. Again, I just think we shouldn't assume that misogyny is involved when there are other incredibly viable reasons for genderbending.

I didn't even bring it up because I didn't want to tbh, but, also a lot of people who genderbend are just.. Into that. That's also a notable reason but again, that wasn't the point.

Btw, this is all coming from the fandom where people rampantly post abt an mlm ship and overlook the other lead that is girl. So. I first hand have experienced the EXACT issue being discussed, but I still wouldn't wanna go and make the wide assertions OP was making. In the end, we are all people on the internet in our niches making assumptions about wider groups even if we don't actually know jack shit about each other. Hence I preach love and tolerate, and to generally not judge people.

I hope this was a decent response and maybe even added something to my previous post. Or maybe this was a jumbled schlock of nothing that went off the rails, I'm sorry if that's the case.

[tostonera]

I don’t live in a very diverse area, so basically everyone dates within race/ethnicity which is why maybe I don’t understand completely what this person is saying. Also, “universal woc experience” since when lmao? You mean woc in the US or Europe or other countries/regions with large diaspora bc there are many places in the world where you don’t meet ppl of other races frequently in the first place, or are people you rarely interact with much less for a romantic encounter.

But anyway, this was in a video where a woman is saying that she doesn’t date Korean men bc they can be misogynistic, racist, homophobic, etc. Not dating Korean men doesn’t mean she’s dating white men, but this comment is what makes me think that the underlying message being received by this commenter is that it’s better to date white men. Regardless of whether that was her intention or not. This isn’t a thing of “betraying your race” bc women don’t owe anything to men and shouldn’t date men of their race bc of “loyalty to their race” or whatever, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think it’s ridiculous the implication that white men are somehow better or more feminist. I think some woc in cultures that have specific cultural norms that are oppressive to them (machismo, for example) imagine whiteness as inherently “progressive” bc they don’t do that specific thing “he wasn’t raised as some ‘macho pecho peludo’ so he can’t hurt me like that”. I say this as someone who’s been there (not in a romantic sense personally, but in a ‘I bet gringos are less homophobic/misogynistic etc’ sense), but don’t be deluded into thinking that bc they don’t do a specific misogynistic thing in your culture they don’t have other ways of being misogynistic or that they aren’t misogynistic at all. It’s important for women to speak up about the ways in which men in their cultures hurt them and the specific ways they do, and if you don’t want to date a man in your race bc of that then I’m so happy for you. But that doesn’t mean a white man is gonna treat you better.

The video was fine btw, women should talk about the shitty men of their own cultures, but that comment made me feel weird bc of the implication that white women are happily in relationships with their white men, or that white men are never rejected for being misogynistic/racist/homophobic etc. And what I’ve said applies to all men ofc but people are so quick to adore white men for the most minimal things “he says he is a feminist!🥹” bc I’ve never met a single Latino man in my life claim to be a feminist. Does that make me think white men are less misogynistic and more “feminist”? No!

[roadtogracelandx45]

Sweet 21| K. Severide |

It's Libby's 21st birthday and Firehouse 51 wants to give her a party she will never forget.

crossposted on ao3, wattpad and FFN

@prettyinpayne

Sweet 21

It's Libby's 21st birthday and Firehouse 51 wants to give her a party she will never forget.

Set before This Fire Burns and T-Shirt

December 6th

Firehouse 51

End of shift

"We will see you tomorrow right?" Joe Cruz asked as the members of the 2nd shift walked out of the firehouse. "Yes Joe, I wouldn't miss it.." Libby said as she reached her hand up and tangled her fingers with Kelly's. "But until tomorrow night she is ours." Shay said, "so no phone calls, text messages anything."

 "We would never," Otis said putting his hand over his heart, almost offended that she would even suggest that they try to pry Libby away from them before it was time.

Ever since the whole Michael thing went down, Shay and Kelly had been even more protective of the younger girl. So much so that most of her belongings were in a storage shed and she was living in their apartment. The trio did everything together. They went to work together and out together. The only time that Libby was away from them was when she went to Mass and confession. 

That was just time just for Libby and they respected that.

"Relax Shay. They know." Libby said through a yawn. She hadn't slept during their downtime, she laid in her bunk and read the second Harry Potter book for the third or fourth time. 

She couldn't sleep, her mind was replaying her last two birthdays both of them were celebrated at home and with her family and twin brother.

 And Michael.

 She still had flashes and nightmares of what happened in the courtroom. The nightmares went from bad to worse and it always put an underlying fear in her. 

So much so that she would wake herself up in the middle of the night and get out of bed and go make sure Shay was okay before crawling back into bed with Kelly and curling into him. And staying there until she woke up.

"Hey baby, why aren't you sleeping?" Shay asked coming out onto the deck in the early afternoon having woken up from her own nap. 

Kelly was still asleep judging by the snores that were coming from his and Libby's room. 

"I can't sleep. I have nightmares, I keep reliving what happened in the courtroom. I have never actually seen a person die in front of me before." She answered dangling her bare feet off the edge of the chair. 

"It will get better. It has gotten better for me and Dawson. " 

"I know, I don't know how you guys do it." She said softly. 

"We just go on to the next one and try to get over it." "And that's the best way to do it."

 "It is. Come on back inside you need some sleep before your party tonight. There is no way that the boys are going to let you dip out early because you are tired."

 "I should be glad I am here and not at home. Erin is going out with the boys and I don't want to deal with her telling me I am wrong for living my life how I am."

 Shay rolled her eyes, "I hate your sister." 

"I do too trust me."

“Go upstairs and try to sleep, Kelly isn’t going to be happy if you aren’t in bed with him when he wakes up,” Shay ordered causing the younger girl to stand up and press a kiss against her cheek before going back into the apartment and back up the stairs to her room. 

***

"I know Dad, I know, don't take drinks from strangers and if anyone says please don't hurt my family. I hit the deck because the bad guy is going to get shot." Libby said as she walked down the spiral suitcase barefooted. 

Her family had called to tell her a happy birthday while she was getting ready to go out and they were wanting to make sure that she was being safe for her outing. "And you know that Kelly and Shay won't let anything happen to me and not to mention Christopher is going to be there. You know he won't let anything happen to me." 

"I know, but still be careful. This is a whole new world that you are entering right now. And you not being here makes me anxious."

 "I know dad I am sorry, but Joe and Brian wanted to make it special for me." She said as she sat down on the couch, Kelly and Shay were behind her watching her carefully.

 "I know. Just be careful."

 "Yes, dad. I will talk to you soon. Bye." She said hanging up the phone and looking at her boyfriend and roommate. 

"Dad is being overprotective."

 "Dads will do that," Shay said nodding her head in agreement, her father was the same way. 

"Danny told me to stick to whisky or bourbon and no sissy mixed drinks.'

 "Well, you like whatever you like baby no matter what your brother says." Shay said as Libby slid her shoes on. 

"They are taking bets on how wasted Joe and Otis try and get me." 

"Oh stupidly drunk." Kelly said with a laugh as he held his hand out to her, 'But that is what you have me for, I will run interference for you if need be."

**

"So Libby." Joe Cruz said coming up to the youngest member of their house and where she was sitting comfortably on her boyfriend's lap a glass filled with whisky in her hand. 

"So Joe." She returned with a laugh, 'Thank you for this. I needed this."

 "You are welcome, little sister." He grinned before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "What no mixed drinks?"

 "Nope, I am Reagan after all and we never drink fruity drinks." He looked at Kelly who nodded his head, he had heard stories about her older siblings mostly from Libby and Danny who wanted to scare his sister into not drinking. 

But instead, it had sent her into a peal of laughter mostly when Jamie reminded him that he was the one that ended up on his hands and knees after his police cadet class reunion.

 Cruz shook his head, 'Well drink up little sister, you only turn 21 once." 

She laughed and took another long sip of her drink, “You are right.” 

[eimearkuopio]

I think every finite life has wheat and chaff. The moments that must happen for us to become our truest selves, the observations around which the spline is fitted in this specific iteration that defines the underlying truth in a close enough approximation that we can identify the infinite self (but I believe every butterfly was once many, many caterpillars, and dying in a cocoon only means being born a cocoon the next time around).

Maybe we have more people with disabilities for a few reasons. Maybe because we have already built a better world than the one we inherited, generation after generation after generation. Mine is the first generation to have it worse than their parents in so many ways; to have too much circus and not enough bread. Maybe our parents' generation doesn't understand that if they cling to the reins because they fear the children they raised won't care for them, or will care as little as they cared for their own parents, they are doing us and themselves a disservice.

My Nana and I are very alike. I have already identified and sought and received treatment for ailments she suffered from her whole life, and she was brainwashed into believing that her suffering was the price of her reward in the next life. She applied that principle to everyone she knew and loved. As long as she thought she was suffering the most, she didn't care how much she hurt other people, and she didn't want to understand better or do better. The treatments I need for my physical limitations may shorten my lifespan; but they also nearly made me kill myself at 28, and I suffered (AND CAUSED OTHERS TO SUFFER IN SPITE OF MY BEST EFFORTS) my entire life until maybe a month ago. I don't know if I am cured, but I know that I finally have a treatment that works for me. I think it will work for some of you.

Do no harm, but take no shit. I had to be wounded and to heal so that I could learn what was truly intolerable. Nana couldn't tolerate things either, but she never resolved the contradictions. She just came up with her iterations of the solutions.

My mother's younger sister died this summer. I didn't know her as well as some of my other relatives. We bonded a lot last summer. She wasn't part of the Church as it currently stands, and that is a tragedy, because she was the greatest livestock guardian sheepdog I have ever known. More feral than me, but that's because I have Nana's blood to temper Grandma's. Sometimes when you cross two breeds, you get the best of both worlds. Sometimes when you breed two species, you can get offspring, but it's sterile. I don't want to live in a zoo. I want to be free. I know that I will always be apart from the world, but I still want to be in it. I want to live before I die, and I want the same thing for all of you, and I think He did, too. I think that's why He sacrificed Himself.

Put down your cross. Please. He didn't want you to be crucified. That's why He let you crucify Him: so you could finally learn how to stop fighting each other. I don't think He expected you to take this long to really get the message, but it's not too late. He is a patient God.

[phoenixmosheh]

6/20/23

Caution:

Welcome to the Phoenix Mosheh Blog. If you come across any accounts asking for money or donations of any kind using the Phoenix Mosheh name. You are being scammed and hustled out of your doe (money). Phoenix Mosheh does not ask for money or sell any products.

Phoenix Mosheh provides FREE CONTENT ONLY...

This goes for any affiliates working in cohesion with Phoenix Mosheh such as ...

1. The Brand Enchantress

Or

2. Eden's Nightgarden.

If you get scammed...this is your own fault.. because you believed in a lie without doing your own research and without any evidence.

Stop being a follower and use your own brain.

...with that said

Enjoy the Blog (show). If you are 18 or older you have the option to turn on your mature tumblr settings... so that you can view "mature audience themes" because Phoenix Mosheh has a bunch of copycat haters who got their feelings hurt when Phoenix Mosheh threatened to expose their sorry fake personas, crimes, work ethic and moral to the public, even though this blog has no followers (dummies) ...which resulted in these "we have money but no brains idiots" peeing on themselves over how to hide certain blog post. Instead of these idiots apologizing for all the dumb and selfish chess moves they have made in life... they reported certain post to tumblr in fear of exposure and becoming a hit tv show.

You will not see all of these exposures without turning your tumblr settings to mature audiences...(again switch on all the mature audience settings...like you do lightbulbs.

https://youtu.be/0z0J_t33-b4 - YouTube Fifth Amendment Miss Sloane Scene

(This Katy Perry video reminds me of that time they made up "Eve eating the forbidden fruit" great myth. The subconscious is a beautiful thing.)

The Goal: I want to recreate this scene of Jennifer Lawrence...only I want to see if you can do a better job than an actor after realizing your subconscious has been asleep. (Like a science experiment).

Who am kidding...I have this bet with God that you won't survive this blog or be able to comprehend the underlying patterns within the entertainment content posted (recreated by the actors, musicians & everyday souls you love) which are most certainly based on biblical characters and predicted prophecy hidden within your entertainment (your welcome again). God seems to think differently. \

Fun Fact: Muslims.

Did you know the hijab was originally used in the bible to hide a Melchizedek's womans beauty in order for her to flee...it was a whole movement of women...Don't get me started on the Burqa...poor Sarai those eyes would have given her away...please don't cut my head off. (you all have made it look sexy asf though ...great work)! Stay safe.

Luckily, I'm not here to force you to read the blog...I am just here to put the information on the blog ...so when sh*t hits the fan ..you as an individual cannot say "why didn't God send someone to help us." This is most certainly on purpose... So, I can sleep peacefully at night knowing I tried.

Are You Still Awake?

...every now and then Phoenix Mosheh throws in what many would call gangster...ghetto music... God calls it "Its time to hurt somebodies feelings music"...don't be so sensitive betch... we have a gangster theme going on ... its like putting hands on someone audibly. It would not have the same effect if acoustics were playing...this does not mean we don't like classical. It means the message we are delivering would most likely fail otherwise. Do you shag (have sex) to the ABC's betch...the Phoenicians did check them out... hit that g note!

You may also notice Phoenix Mosheh uses your everyday entertainment like scenes from movies, scenes from tv shows and tarot readers to get our message and points across in order to awaken two of your spiritual senses...sight and sound. Which will eventually awaken your natural spiritual intuition (subconsciousness)...everybody has it.

Fun Fact: Tarot Readers...What if I told you that when slave masters outlawed reading...they meant tarot (your real connection to God...couldn't allow you to find out that bible was not real copy).

This blog will expose this real story (many of the tarot readers on YouTube can verify this story...if they take the time to use their intuitive prowess together (take the time to study other videos besides your own without thinking its a competition).

Example 2: For Elias 6/25/2023

https://youtu.be/Lj4adAAHa68 - Training Day King Kong

https://youtu.be/yWYw - The Mistake You Made - The Equalizer

Why do Melchizedek Trust Angels to fight their battles (wars) Instead of Humans?

Lets take a look back in time....for starters It never works. Humans wimp out too easily, decide to switch sides (become Judas's) when Melchizedek start becoming too powerful and resort to ruthless acts in order to eradicate bloodlines who would eradicate you all if they could...and what leader would want to subjugate the fragile human brain, prone to ptsd and other mental health disorders in order to fight for causes that could possibly sacrifice their own families (with no benefits after war).

Who would want to follow leaders of nations who never set one foot in battle, while you uplift their children, who watch yours go to war, only for their nepotism babies to lead you into a new one (even nepo babies have to earn their stripes...oh wait...are you all fighting battles and supporting people (Kings and Queens & Presidents & Celebrities etc... who have sacrificed nothing in return?). Did Caeser teach you nothing?

Example Videos Below: Why do Melchizedek Trust Angels to fight their battles Instead of Humans ?

https://youtu.be/SaGI4tX9FVw - Ex 1: (Imagine the Michael they are referring to in this clip is Archangel Michael)

https://youtu.be/eOoRqesH0sk - Ex 2: Jon Snow Kills Danny

Why Melchizedek prefer Angels (Guardians) to fight wars...no fingerprints!

https:/youtub.be/T9sKhnO9osM - Final Destination (There is no Hell after Earth people...its Earth than Heaven) Anyone Remember what angel plans out death...the answer was given on this blog previously no its not archangel Michael..

Thank you Elias, for playing decoy with me. I couldn't have done it without you. You were the operative (secret detective/spy) ...way to form an "alliance."

(Don't be mad at me blame God... I didnt know ...but I do know, I don't heal as fast as you, so I would have died...thank you for your sacrifice (service)

Did you know in The Book of Eli when they took Noah's wife and killed her he became an alcoholic?

Elias, Abba told me to place this message for you, its from your gaurdian Raphael. (I didn't finish watching it yet...but I am just trusting God (Abba) that it resonates).

I still have trouble determining when it's my Angel (gaurdian) or God responding to me.. gaurdians act as personal assistants depending on their giftings. They like to show you signs (think of a brother who likes to play with a younger sibling or protect them by teaching them what they know) while God is more affirmative, reaffirming, no nonsense, Fatherly. For instance if You ask God a question the response is straight to the point: "I said this" "Do it like this" "Don't be afriad" "You can do it"...

The angel (gaurdian) is going to show you signs based on what God has affirmed... "God said this...here's the dream..." Do it like this... here are the resources , the plan" "Don't be afraid (your gaurdians will get it done but eventually you'll be able to do it yourself) "You can do it (I told you so)." Eventually, you will be a le to see your gaurdian...you have more coming by the way.

If you think the Melchizedek woman is mean/bad....you haven't met the real Melchizedek man (Elias). His wife is "nice" compared to him.

If you (humans) don't have this gift (intuitive energy reading/tarot) from God...you most likely have another...

-empath intuitive (trait/gift knowing the contents of someone's heart...not to put therapist out of business because God is my only therapist but...if you get a therapist get one that is an empath...so they don't break HIPPA law and make fun of your poor choices amongst other medical personal when you leave...)

https://youtu.be/hWTBvWfsU34 - An example of empath intuitive tarot reader based on how Elias may have been feeling during this ordeal (this breaks my heart 😢)

Every time, I see that scene from Avengers Endgame, where black widow dies. I low key think of Elias and his wife intuitively telling one another "you are not leaving me here with these crazy humans...I'm throwing myself off of a cliff...we are going thave to fight for this suicide my love?...lol

https://youtu.be/DG_IhmVKbxU - Black Widow Dies

An Empath intuitive is similar to an energy reader. You may notice that in tarot a normal energy reader will read the energy of a person and judge the whole energy based on a piece of information they are currently reading about a person. So, if the person (masculine or feminine) has done something wrong, like committing a crime (i.e stealing) they will judge the person solely off of that crime without actually looking into why this person was stealing...were they stealing because they were under a spell, were they stealing medication because their child was sick and prescription prices are through the roof or are they just a pathological liar and thief? This is often what people forget to look into when judging people and whether they deserve forgiveness or a slap on the wrist or a death sentence. This gift is important because people often judge others for what they have heard about other people instead of trying to clarify or go deeper...people fail to empathize because they don't know the full story and do not take the time to see if what they have been told about others is actually true or just a rumor. People also fail to try and relate to choices people make and often can't see why someone chose a certain route that maybe they wouldn't have chose. Not everyone has the same weaknesses, dysfunctions, childhood wounds or habits...but it doesn't mean you don't have any...different weaknesses can cause you to fall prey to different entrapment, tricks, spellwork, vicious cycles. Etc. (you may not be an alcoholic it taste bad so why would you use it to drown your emotions ...but you are an emotional eater yes?) One sounds better and maybe is more socially acceptable both are still unhealthy coping strategies.

-art intuitive - some people create messages from God using art (the guy I'm staying with drew this it's almost time to meet up again Elias (like Isaac and Rebekah 😉) Get some rest and smile more.

https://youtu.be/KiKD6i_QRJI - Matrix Resurrections Coffee Shop Fight Scene

When you get invited to a motorcycle party by the guy, you are staying with that is not Elias and Gabriel reminds you "aren't you pregnant, don't you have a husband?" ... (Elias' Wife: where he at though jk jk)?

-creative intuitive - ever have a random dream or an idea and it becomes an invention, book or a movie

-reiki healing - if you're a nurse or medical personal who went to nursing school because you actually had a desire to help heal people without beating them in the head or just for the mula. (Be careful who you let "lay hands" on you...you could end up sick or dead).

(Also, things like sage, salt around your house, wolf's Bain, silver bullets(werewolves), rocks (healing stones) for protection, these trinkets and gemstones will not protect you supernaturally. The universe? The universe listens to its Creator...its best to know which god (spirit) you are talking to because some of them are thirsty and looking for vessels stupid enough to be used. A soul is not a spirit.

Intuitively God knows your heart ...so whether you believe in the universe or Sun God Ra ( EviRAh an original) or Allah etc....The original God who crested these spirits (gods) will know, so don't worry about your religion. However, if you call on the universe its a lot more vague than calling on Allah or Jesus...but it goes back to God knowing your heart because even people who can pronounce the name of God with their hand on a bible can be fake believers.

The law of attraction is true in that you can attract a specific god based on what's in your heart (your mentality, your desires, and moral). You can ask the universe for something you want and get it...but you always want to know which god is giving it to you (who is behind your universe, whos power are you borrowing to get what you want, and does it want something in return?) Basically, be careful who you pray to ...you might want to be more specific.

Oh and Samjaza doesn't like humans at all...he think their messy and dumb and easily controlled. Honestly, if he could get back into heaven by sacrificing you all he would. Samjaza (Satan): "How many times do I have to tell Adam I'm sorry for raping his wife forbidden fruit style?" (In case someone was wondering...Samjaza also has a thing for black women...right Evirah? Samjaza has narcissistic traits... do you know what happens when you reject a narcissist? (Why do they hate black people so much, and treat black women like dirt...? Please don't tell me it's a skin color thing?...doesn't your food grow from dirt something that is black and brown and you eat it! Lets not forget the sh*t that falls out of your booty hole comes in many shades of healthy browns/blacks... when it comes out a different color you get scared and run to a doctor...and beg them to make it brown again! Lol I Crack myself up)... This is an observation people chill... the sight of black/brown people thriving and remembering their culture and how to grow out their own hair... reminds Samjaza of what he did to his beloved Eve. God forbid they look like his original Queen and haunt him. You're welcome black people, let racial slurs bother you no more and let's move on.

The Original Harriet Tubman was White.

Angels only answer to Melchizedek...so don't waste your money on things like spellwork to try and conjure them...its a deaf ears kind of thing. They can however interact with humans and show them signs as well.

etc etc...

Phoenix Mosheh is Ethnicity Neutral aka not racist ...but sorry if we offend you in some way shape or form...you all are very sensitive, especially when it comes to Cultural Appropriation and Gender...he she they them it...who you currently think you are...does not affect my life... just don't try and steal someone's identity out of jealousy, like the basic betch that gets dragged on this blog. Otherwise...Phoenix Mosheh prefers to mind our own businesses..

...although we may suggest some things within this blog regarding gender or race at the end of the day ...you don't have to believe in what others believe in...in order to listen to someone's point of view...not hate them...and move on with your life unbothered...

You will find that Phoenix Mosheh also uses a variety of ethnicities and cultures and curse words (not curses...curse words) ...this is to debunk untruths about God and who He can and will use to get a message across... it also makes our enemies who can't stand watching certain ethnicities "angry, irate and sick to their stomachs." We love making our enemies sit and suffer...and if they don't sit through it and suffer... they are still going to suffer because this is information whether they define it as ghetto or not. The truth is the truth no matter who it comes from.

Besides... How do you defeat an opponent without information about them? Phoenix Mosheh suggests even if you don't agree with what Phoenix Mosheh has to say... as an intellectual... Phoenix Mosheh believes it's important to study things you don't believe in...like witches or magic...because you don't want to be caught blind from an attack you don't believe in...(at least with some information on the topic... your brain could at least form the concept that maybe...the attack is coming from something you probably didn't believe in. Phoenix Mosheh studies all of you and honestly, we see a lot of stupid things people believe in and we just keep it in the "perhaps this information will be necessary one day to win wars."

(by the way it's not just white people who are racist...you have black and brown shades from all cultures/and ethnic backgrounds who have colorism brainwashing and they can do this delusional trick where... they look in the mirror and think certain racist commentary wouldn't apply to them... (recommendation for those who are sadly mistaken: replace your mirror).

We also like to reveal encrypted messages from Heaven...like this.. you kind of have to seek and you will find on this blog people...stop being lazy...this is a group project and you all are sleeping like you don't have technology. Moses and the tribes back then had it wayyyyy worse than you all...like what are you doing?

Don't tell me you all are somehow slower than people who took gold from their ears and made a cow to worship it...no offense India...(i'm going to throw a Band-aid in the air because I know that hurt somebody) ... On the bright side...Phoenix Mosheh prefers Bollywood over Hollywood! And India thank you for keeping Rebekahs fashion alive ...those nose rings are still in style. Oh...and Rachel. Jacob's wife would also like you all to know her name is pronounced Raquel.

Why didn't Phoenix Mosheh use more religious music artist throughout this blog (like Lecrae or Kari Jobe) we appreciate it truly, but Phoenix Mosheh is trying to prove a point; God can use anyone...even those that don't believe or preach the word of God. So be careful who you are following...if it could happen to a Melchizedek, it can happen to you. (Phoenix Mosheh is not asking anyone to commit violent acts in anyway unless provoked and your laws permit it. Phoenix Mosheh's' first line of defense is to fight in the spirit... (so you don't leave fingerprints) this is just a blog to inform and educate.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Happy Rude Awakening!

[sophieinwonderland]

Much of the support for endos actively does harm to those with CDDs(and you wonder why some of those with CDDs don't like you).

What does this even mean?

In what way does support for endogenic systems harm CDD systems?

Besides the apps that have been built by the pro-endo community, and the resources that have been created by pro-endos, the academic research is likely to foster better treatments and it's already helping educate people about the overlap between plurality and gender issues, which will be a huge help for systems of all kinds who are hoping to transition. And one of the goals of the studies into tulpamancy is to help develop treatments for dissociative identity disorder and other disorders that involve voice hearing.

Support for endogenic systems they win for everybody.

The suggestion that supporting endogenic systems hurts CDD systems is categorically false, and underly absurd on every level.

As for your other accusations, the fact that you ended up spreading misinformation that you didn't believe really seems like a you problem.

I run one of the largest pro-endo bloge on the website. In my pinned, I make it clear that I don't personally have a belief in spirits or the afterlife or the like. My view of plurality is entirely grounded in the physical and the psychological.

I have made posts on multiple occasions where I explained why I don't believe that headmates can travel metaphysically from one system to another through system hopping, with my explanation of why, and explaining how you could test if this actually worked in a way that could successfully communicate information from one system to another.

And guess what? I have practically never actually been made to feel like I was wrong for standing by my own beliefs.

Honestly, I was surprised at how accepting the community was of me not holding any of these spiritual views.

Which makes me wonder if this is actually a problem with the pro-endo community, or if you were just spineless as a pro-endo and unwilling to stand by your views because of assumptions you made about how the community would receive them?

I think that the community is far more accepting of opinions than you give it credit for, unless those opinions involve defending the people who hate us for existing.

Just because you felt a certain way doesn't make it the community's fault or responsibility.

And something that you seem to consistently not understand is that there is a difference between hating somebody for their existence, and hating somebody for literally spreading hate and bigotry against you for your existence. These are not the same things and it is disgusting that you are even comparing them.

Yes, many of these sysmeds are plural. Just like many transmeds are trans. Would you argue that hatred of transmeds by non-dysphoric trans people is uncalled for?

And while I don't support sending hate to people from either side, this again, is very different when one side is reacting to bigotry they face from the other.

Being anti-endo is inherently bigoted.

Disliking anti-endos for being bigots is not.

It's that simple.

(I also wonder what the context was for the hate messages your friend got. Not saying that they deserved it. But I do find a lot of times that an anti-endo will make a post like "endos are all ableist roleplayers and aren't real," reblog a flag to show how much they hate endogenic systems, then get a rude anon and be like "see, I told you endos were terrible!")

And you accuse us of entering spaces we don't belong. What spaces are these again? Are these the CDD exclusive spaces for support with a mental disorder? Because despite this accusation being hurled a lot by anti-endos, I have rarely ever actually seen this. Most non-disordered systems aren't going to hang out in spaces for people with dissociative disorders.

Or do you mean the anti-endo spaces? The spaces that are created for a community that hates us to spread more hate about us???

Is your position then, that it's morally acceptable for people to have safe spaces to spread hate against our community?

Are we the bad guys for not allowing bigots to have safe spaces where they can spread rhetoric that hurts us?

Finally, nobody needs to involve themselves with syscourse if they don't want to. I have no idea why you think that I would want them to do that. There are lots of great blogs that aren't involved with it, or rarely are, and it's important for those spaces to exist.

Have you ever seen me go after a blog because I thought they didn't talk about syscourse enough? 🙄

I do think that the label is important though. I think that it shows solidarity with the endogenic community and lets endogenic systems know that it's a safe place.

People don't need to involve themselves in arguments. Just having the label can make your space feel more welcoming and inclusive. You can just delete any asks you don't want to deal with and block people trying to pick fights.

I am all for the people who want to stay out of syscourse doing just that.

What I won't support are the type of neutrals who will try to play both sides, blame endogenic systems for being attacked by anti-endos, and try to police the way that we fight back.

Hi sophie, I'm the host very small traumagenic(could be otherwise) group(we don't ..I was hoping to give a little more perspective into why we consider ourselves "endo-nuetral". Also if this is not the correct term, maybe you can suggest another one?

We do not really care for system discourse, we find it very difficult to interact with people when they are so stuck on stances, orgins, validity etc. just so they can argue. It's a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" type of situation that's very exhausting for us, we don't have the spoons to constantly go back and forth, or try to prove of convince others to just shut up and take others point of views into consideration. We am are not anti endo at all, plurality comes in all sorts of forms and that's basic knowledge, but we use it to signal to others "we are not gonna argue about endos with you, fuck off". Ultimately we love seeing other people's opinions, and their thoughts, and their stances on certian things. But like, yk, it's just so irritating being pulled at the limbs by both sides for having opinions.

So I'm searching for a better term to just if you could possibly assist with that?

You're probably not going to like my opinion, but I think the only valid stance is pro-endo.

Like, you believe endogenic systems exist... I'm sure you agree that endogenic systems have a right to exist and not face hate for being endogenic... that's pro-endo.

If the only reason you're identifying as neutral is to avoid syscourse, that's probably going to have the opposite effect. It puts you in the middle where endogenic systems won't feel safe with you, and probably is going to encourage anti-endos to interact and argue. The reason being that they see someone on the fence, whose mind they can potentially change.

So... why not just be pro-endo? Why not embrace it?

I think the better way to signal "we are not gonna argue about endos with you, fuck off" is to be proudly pro-end, make it clear that you won't participate in syscourse, and you won't change your mind because you know that plurality comes in all forms.

Sure, you may still get hate. But it's only going to be coming from one side, and probably even less from that side because they know they won't be able to bully you into submission.

I just don't see the value in taking any sort of middle ground. It's not going to keep you out of discourse. It's not going to protect you from anti-endos. And it's actually likely to pull you more into discourse than if you had actually firmly picked a side.

[suna-reversed]

Talking to the moon🌙

Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

minors DNI‼️

3k+ words

(quote^^ by- Richard Siken)

warnings/tags- blood and violence. oral (f.recieving), vaginal sex, anal, dacryphilia, slight praise, slight degradation, fingering. age gap. toxic relationship. mentions of harassment. yandere themes implied. heartbreak, moving on. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. (all characters are aged up!)

Gojo Satoru is the moon. Ever changing and radiant. Beaming with light, even when he doesn't have any of his own. And much like the moon, parts of him stay hidden in an ominous darkness as he leaves you cold and alone in the tangled mess of sheets, wondering why your lover disappears at the crack of every dawn.

You had met him a while ago when he had first come into the bakery you worked at part-time, dazzling pearls on show as he ordered every single flavour of mochi off the menu. You didn’t know where it started; how the simple exchanges turned into conversations that lasted up to hours, your manager practically having to shoo him away so that you’d stop getting distracted.

You got used to him visiting you in the day during work, sitting on the barstool near the bakery counter, talking your ear off about the most random of things while he stuffed his face with mochi. You sometimes wondered how you happened to have so much in common with a man so much more older than you. 

You couldn't exactly remember how those innocent conversations turned into you being splayed across the marble kitchen countertop of your apartment at 3 am, the joyous man now turned into a ferocious beast as he devoured you whole, holding your legs apart, tongue licking in between your folds with such fervour that made it seem as if it was the last meal of his life. 

In all honesty, you didn’t know a lot about him, except for the fact that he worked at a private institute and often travelled overseas. He’d be as silent as a mouse as he slipped out of your place before sunrise each time. He never told you why, and eventually you stopped asking- the warmth and comfort of his body too addictive to have to give up for the question of ‘what are we?’ being answered.

On days that you’d find yourself waking up early, you’d simply let your eyes roam over the muscles of his back, adoring the dimples at the bottom of his spine, memorising each blemish, scar and mark as if you’d never see it again. You sometimes found yourself wishing he’d take off the peculiar fabric covering his eyes- your mind could barely fathom the shade of his orbs.

You knew that he was always aware of you being awake. But he didn’t acknowledge it, whether by accident or choice, you could never tell. So every time he’d finish pulling his shirt over his head, you’d roll away, focusing your mind out the window on the half disappearing moon instead of the crushing weight on your chest. 

Perhaps, this was the love they never told you about. The love that wasn’t afternoon picnics and obnoxious public displays of affection. The love that wasn’t late night grocery runs and feeding each other food at cafes.

Instead, this was the love that had you deleting messages and cleaning up the strands of ashy hair from your shower drain. The love that had you lying to your friends about the marks on your neck and pretending like he didn’t just have you pinned down beneath him the night before as you served him coffee.

Every morning that you woke up alone in bed, sore and unclothed from the events of the previous night, you found yourself thinking of ways that you’d turn him away the next time he showed up at your door. But then the bell would ring, and your feet would be carrying you to the half broken man covered in bruises and blood before you could think of it.

This time, you’re sure you tell him to go away, to stop treating you as if you were some toy, slamming the door in his crestfallen face. But then why do you find yourself clutching onto his scarlet stained jacket in the bathroom? The first aid box discarded to the side as you sob into his chest, a hand stroking your hair as he assures you he’s fine. 

That night, you find him buried deep inside of you, your heavy breathing filling the silence of the air, your back to his chest. The arms around you feel unbearably tight as he pulls you even closer to him. Why is he trying to snatch all the warmth from your body?

The hot breath of his mouth is right next to your ear. He’s telling you he wants to be tender and merciful while his teeth are digging into your jugular, the hand around your throat tightening as his hips rut into you harder. He does not wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face.

The next morning, you find a burning sensation rising in your chest as you stare at the empty space next to you; his underlying scent of strawberries and citrus still lingering.

What had you been expecting? Why would this night have been different from any other?

That question is answered when you realise the unfamilair feeling of a cold metal wrapped around your ankle while climbing out of bed. Looking down, you see that it's a thin silver anklet with two charms hanging off of it.

His initials and a crescent moon.

You can’t help the smile that’s on your face for the rest of the day.

--------

You're panting, the drumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, vision blurring as you try to make it back home. You’re gripping onto the walls to keep yourself from falling, the pain in your body near unbearable as you somehow manage to unlock the door, not even making it past the entrance as you crumble apart right there, curling in on yourself as broken sobs leave your chest. 

The sound of footsteps has you shutting your eyes, flinching from the pain and fear of knowing you can’t fight. The terror of your attacker being in your home makes your cries even louder.

Instead, you find your senses being flooded by the familiar scent of strawberries and the cologne that you bought him- warm muscular arms come to wrap around your figure, lifting you up. You’re still crying as he settles you down onto the bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

He lifts your shirt to reveal the expanse of wounds littered across your abdomen. An unreadable expression remains on his face as he skillfully cleans off the blood, fixing you up like you’ve done for him a dozen times. You don’t remember telling him where you were injured. Could the blood be seen through your shirt? None of it matters as he pushes you back down onto the plush mattress, your eyes fluttering close you as fall into a deep fitful slumber. 

It’s a full moon tonight, the light cascading through your window providing you an odd sense of comfort. You turn over in the dark, gasping a little as your eyes lock onto a pair of strange azure ones. Your mind is still heavy from the medicines you took, perhaps that’s why you don’t react, simply staring into the unfamiliar eyes on a face that you recognised better than the back of your own hand.

His slender pale fingers are trailing over the skin of your abdomen. Shouldn't it hurt more? A hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your chin as he examines the scratch on your jaw. Your heart skips a beat as his soft lips press a chaste kiss onto your brow. His voice is low and tense, anger barely restrained as he asks,

“Who did this to you?”

You try to form a response, but all you can hear is the shallow echo of the beating of your half-dead heart. Your chest feels hollow as words finally rise to the tip of your tongue, eyes dry as you tell him all of it. How a strange force had pinned you against a wall when you were walking back home, how the man who appeared from the shadows of the dark alley didn’t even lift a finger, yet it felt like each bone in your body was being cracked apart. How you barely felt the pain of the broken bottle that impaled your flesh as you were thrown aside, the stranger parting from you with just four words,

“Consider this a warning.”

You don’t care how crazy you sound as you explain the bizarre events that occurred. You don’t care that his orbs are as blue and twice as deep as the mariana trench. You don’t care that for once, his eyes hold something other than just lust as he looks at you.

Your throat feels raw by the time you finish, and it hurts to look at his pitiful face so you roll onto your side, fixing your eyes on the shimmering celestial body outside your window. You both lay in silence for a while.

“I liked thinking of you as the moon at times.”

The calm in your voice startles Gojo, but he remains quiet, wanting you to continue. It doesn’t matter if it's gibberish, doesn't matter if it’s words of hatred, of doubt, of regret; he’ll take it as long as there’s something- as long as you’re speaking. His arms tremble around you a little as a bitter laugh escapes your chest. 

“But at the end of the day,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “...all I am, is a mere star in a galaxy full of constellations.”

The raw sob that rips from your chest is a surprise to both you and Gojo.

“Tell me who cares about a star that burns out and explodes?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn around to face him.

For once in his life, Gojo Satoru can’t joke, fight or fuck his way out of a situation. A strange weight has been on his chest ever since he saw your eyes. The light and joy stripped out of them as he found himself staring back at his own reflection. 

His eyes glance down at the dip of your collarbone, the arch of your shoulder that he wanted to reside in forever, now covered in small scars. He knows who hurt you. 

He pulls you closer to him, tangling his feet with yours, the strip of metal around your ankle clinking at the movement. Perhaps it was a huge mistake to have bought you something so carelessly, knowing that the eyes of a few dozen enemies followed him wherever he went. 

He finds himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melds his lips with yours. You sigh into his mouth and he kisses you even deeper, almost desperately as if trying to pass over his own breaths to you- as if trying to bring you back to life. He finds the taste of salt on his tongue and the wet drops falling onto his cheeks makes his flesh burn. He doesn't know whose they are as he continues to try and cling onto the shell of what was once a whole person. 

“Please” he finds himself mumbling as he pulls you even closer, heart cracking as you continue sniffing into his chest. 

“It hurts- it hurts- so much” You’re sobbing now, his own body shaking in tandem with yours.

Who is he to deny you when you look up at him, the broken plea leaving your mouth, 

“Make it stop please.”

---

Gojo finds the cold metal of his own initials pressing against the side of his face as he hoists your legs over his shoulder. His fingers are pressing down against your sensitive nub, spreading around your slick before he pumps two of his fingers into you. You buck your hips up, cries escaping you as his tongue licks your clit, suctioning it into his mouth as he increases the pace of his fingers.

You’re cumming undone within seconds, begging him to fill you up. He’s never so easily given in to your demands, but tonight, it’s as if he’s only there to serve your wishes. The sickening thought of getting hurt again just so that you’d get this treatment creeps up in the back of your mind. 

You moan as you feel him line his thick girth with your entrance, the tip catching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rubs it between your dripping heat. He leans forward, pushing your legs up and safely tucking them against your chest, before crashing his lips against yours. It’s messy and rushed; tongue against tongue, spit drooling out as he pushes himself inside of you in one long stroke. The burn of it has you groaning into his mouth, hands moving to tangle into his hair. His thrusts are deep and angled, the feeling of it settling deep in your belly. 

“Fuck- you look so-fucking-pretty underneath me like this”

His words of praise are muffled against your lips, further drowned out by your moans as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit. You’re screaming his name as the coil in your stomach snaps, his own restraint breaking as he finishes, painting your walls with his seed. 

It’s not the first time you find yourself screaming and moaning that night. His cock is inside of you in one way or the other through the entirety of the next few hours- whether it be deep down your throat as his hands pull your hips down to his face, moaning at the taste of himself leaking from your cunt - or stretching the walls of your puckered asshole, the lube he pumped in with his slender fingers dripping out as he presses you to the shower wall, a hand coming forward to fondle your tits as his face falls onto your shoulder, grunting into your ear while he pistons in and out of your tight hole. 

You can barely move a muscle by the time you’re done, body and mind numb from both the exhaustion and overstimulation as he pulls the covers over the two of you, limbs entangled with each other’s, skin against skin, his hands rubbing circles onto your spine.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” 

You’re barely conscious as he whispers that, humming and burying your face deeper into his cozy heat as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You do not notice the solemn drop of moisture that escapes his eye, falling onto your cheek, a thumb brushing it away just as quickly, as if it was never there. Just as he wishes he could brush away his own existence from your life- no- just as he was going to.

“...I promise.”

---

When your eyes flutter open, they are not met with the moon.

Instead, the light of the rising sun casts a rosy hue across your room. And for once, you do not feel cold as you spread out your legs to take more of the space on the expanse of your empty bed. The sunlight does not feel like a curse anymore, even if the nostalgia of the moon’s glow stays buried somewhere deep in your heart. 

But at least there’s no more crying going to bed alone each night; no more hours of scrolling through social media looking for someone who doesn’t exist; no more one night stands and low grade hookups trying to fulfil the ever-growing void in your heart. 

In fact, you find yourself going out more, singing along to songs in the shower once again, even making friends with a regular trio that starts coming into your bakery every other day. They told you they’re college students too, all around your age, and you find yourself smiling a little more than necessary at one of them, even if a pair of ocean eyes floods the back of your mind each time that you do. You’re still hurting and healing, but at least you are moving forward. 

“At least he kept his promise”  You find yourself thinking as you climb out of bed, sighing in disappointment at the clinking of charms around your ankle. 

—-

“At least I kept my promise.” 

It had become Gojo’s new-found mantra. Every time he saw you drunk out of your mind at a bar, deftly bribing the bartender to replace your ordered shots with water instead. Every time he saw a random body pressed to yours, their tongue exploring your sweet mouth as you pushed them into your apartment. And especially that one time he found himself standing over the half-beaten body of the man who had tried to grope you on the bus. 

“At least I kept my promise- at least she’s safe.”

He knew his actions were of a mad man. Even though he took care of the problem which had hurt you in the first place, he still found himself paranoid. Following you around every other night, making sure you were still here- still alive under the same sky as him, under the same sun and moon and stars. He told himself he was doing it for you- even if he found his heart swell every time he saw the familiar glint of the silver trinket around your ankle.

-----

“No way!” You find yourself laughing around a mouth full of mochi.  

“No- I swear he likes you, he just doesn't want to admit it, you know how he-” 

“What are you two talking about?”

You both immediately snap your mouths shut as he returns from the restroom, sliding into the seat on his side of the booth. 

“Nothing!” you reply in unison. 

“Anyways, do you want me to get you anything else? Something that this idiot wouldn't shove into my mouth?” You joke, tapping your pen against the notepad. 

“Hey! I just wanted you to taste how delicious the mochi was!”

“I know- I made it!”

A loud cough breaks your banter with the light haired boy, 

“I-I do actually want to ask for something”

“Of course, what can I get you? The ginger tea you like?”

“Well- what I want is-” he pauses, and you don’t miss the mischievous glint in the eyes of his friend sitting across the table. 

“I’d like to take you to the festival at the park.”

You’re halfway through writing it down on the notepad before you realise what he’s asked, your head snapping up to see the slightly flushed tint on his cheeks as he glares at the howling boy across the table. Your own face heats up as he looks towards you expectantly. 

“You don’t have to if you-”

“Pick me up at 4”

“Oh” butterflies race in your stomach at the smile that he gives you, “...okay, 4 it is.” 

------

Weeks go by and you don’t realise the slow mending of your heart. Your broken pieces coming together each time he holds your hand, each time he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, each time he whispers words of affirmations into your ear, and each time he comforts your shaking body, apologising for kissing your brow- even if he doesn’t understand why it made you cry. 

Eventually, you learn to not mind being just a mere star in the vast expanse of the cosmo.

You didn’t care because he looked at you like you held the universe in your eyes, cradling your face with such gentleness as if you were precious china. You didn’t care because when his lips came down onto yours, it felt like the collision of stars- your own little supernovae in the curve of his cupid’s bow. You didn’t care because when you woke up, you’d find him peppering kisses across the purple constellations he left the night before. 

You didn’t care because you never woke up cold and alone anymore.

------

“I’ll be back in just a second.” 

You find yourself saying as you move your head off his lap, waving to your other two friends, their own counterparts lounging beside them. 

“Is everything okay?’ 

He’s always so tender- except for when he has you splayed across the bed on your stomach, hips thrusting into yours as he tells you what a good slut you are for him- just for him. Heat crawls up your face at the memory from a few nights ago. The fingers wrapping your hand snap your mind out of its perverse refuge. Looking down, you find concern-filled eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah, I just want to take a walk alone by the beach- get some air.” You reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the dark and the fresh sea breeze on your face is refreshing. You make a mental note to thank Nobara for dragging you onto this trip. You stop as you find a cozy spot in the sand, giving you a perfect view of the moonlit sea.

You don’t know how long you sit there, thinking of a particular set of emerald eyes and long lashes, your smile faltering as the promise ring on your finger grazes the forgotten metal on your ankle. Your face remains neutral as you unhook it, even if it feels like cutting your own hand off, but that’s all there is to it - familiarity and nostalgia. There’s no blackhole in your chest, ready to open up and swallow you whole, there are no tears shed as you bury the piece of junk into the sand, and there is no looking back as you walk away, back into the arms of your precious ‘gumi. 

Gojo stands at the rooftop, one hand clutching the sand covered jewellery, the other pulling down a side of his blindfold as he watches you entangle yourself in the arms of another, laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your brow. You’re happy, that’s all that matters- still, the irony of the situation pricks at him - especially after all he did to keep you away from his world. 

He had initially found himself at a loss for words when you had told him that he was the moon, and you, just a star. If you were to ask him again, Gojo would agree, but with only half of it.

He may have been the moon, but you were a galaxy full of stars and planets that harboured dreams and wishes he could never fathom. His mind kept flickering back to the constellations he littered your body with as he now watched his own disciple press kisses into the crook of your neck. 

Nonetheless, he found his own lips twitching upwards- almost tragically, but the warmth in his chest was real as he saw the joy on your face. You were right; he was the moon after all. He had shone as bright as the sun itself despite not having any light of his own. Now he stood there watching the same light reflect off the dark-haired boy who held you in his arms, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Perhaps he should have found another way back then. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated his ability to be able to protect you. Perhaps- 

it didn’t matter now. 

perhaps at the end of the day, the moon was nothing but a dreamer.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

[clairecrive]

"it’s been months since we broke up and i just found one of your old sweatshirts in my wardrobe and it’s making me miss you" nikolai x reader with a happy ending pls?

A/n: I can't help myself but give my best man a happy ending, sorry not sorry. Hope you like it x

Warnings: angst, confrontation, happy ending

Word count: 2K

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofshield, @for-bebbanburg, @randomoutsiders, @pansysgirlfriend, @hannaxmaria, @vintagebitc, @story-scribbler, @crowssixof, @odetostep, @lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

A knock on the door in the middle of the night wasn't something you were expecting to happen. Merely because you were not expecting anyone. Even though, to be fair, it wasn't that late. And considering how everyone's so busy these days, with the Darkling threat looming over your heads, everyone is required to put in some work to plan a strategy that will assure our victory. Or at least, to contain the damage that surely the Shadow Summoner had planned to inflict upon those who had betrayed him.

Sleep was a luxury these days, so really, you shouldn't have been surprised by someone calling for you. Sighing, you walked to the door wrapping your robe around your body.

When your eyes fell onto the person behind the door, you froze. Now this, was a surprise.

You definitely weren't expecting your ex-boyfriend to knock on your door in the middle of the night a month after your break up.

"Nikolai?" the surprise was clear in your voice as well as weariness. If he was here that meant that something terrible must have happened.

"Were you sleeping?" he shuffled on his feet. As if seeing at your door after all this time wasn't baffling enough, his insecurity certainly was.

You shook your head. "Has something happened?"

"Yes," he said rolling his shoulders back. You stood taller as well, bracing for the bad news. "it’s been months since we broke up and I just found one of your old sweatshirts in my wardrobe and it’s making me miss you," he added and pulled something from behind his back.

It was your sweatshirt indeed, one of your favourites, certainly the most comfortable one. One that you usually used to sleep but it was also the one that you had left in his rooms. The break-up had been sudden in the sense that it had been a long time in the making but the bubble had broken abruptly, leaving you no time to retrieve your stuff.

Well, you could have gone to him and ask for your things but you had spent the last month trying to avoid him.

"Nikolai-" now your words were tentative, a slight warning in them. There was a reason why things had ended, after all.

"No, please, just hear me out." There was no insecurity in his voice anymore, nor in his body language. You knew the man in front of him, painfully aware of how stubborn he was. And the truth was that you had missed him too. Being so close to him and yet so far away had been one of the hardest things you had to do.

So you relented. With a nod, you let him in your room.

You closed the door and when you turned around you saw him sitting on your bed. You took a couple of step towards him but decided to stand at a safe distance from him. Nikolai's eyes were on you and you shifted on your feet under his gaze.

"What's there left to say?" You spoke since he didn't. His presence was unnerving enough on its own, embarrassing silence wasn't a surplus you needed.

"I'm aware of why we broke up, what you think. But I need you to know that it was a huge misunderstanding." He said, squaring his shoulders.

You scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest. "Really? And you waited a month to clear the air?"

"It wouldn't have been fair to you for me to have this conversation before." He stated as if he was during one of his diplomatic meetings.

"Because all this time, you've still been flirting with her."

"I wouldn't put it like that..." He slightly grimaced, his eyes leaving yours for the first time to move to his hands.

"Courting, wooing, pursuing, whatever Nikolai. I don't care how you'd put it. I don't care about what you do with her either." Gesturing with your hands, you sneered at his audacity. He wasn't going to get out of this on semantics. Nonetheless, it was over and you didn't want to show just how aggravated seeing him with Alina made you. "It's none of my business." You shook your head and moved towards your window, giving him your back.

"Well, maybe you don't care but I do. Maybe what I have to tell you won't change a thing but I need to at least try." He raised his voice, frustration clear in his words for your attitude. But you couldn't care less, you had just started. "Because this past month without you has been hell and I don't want to spend another day without you." His voice trembled a bit at the end and you knew that it wasn't easy for him to be this vulnerable with you.

"Don't tell Alina that." You teased him in a neutral tone. Back still to him.

"Alina doesn't care, y/n. And neither do I."

"Could have me fooled."

"It would have been a political union." Frustrated, he pointed out. You turned around this time, scoffing at the implicit insult.

"That much I had guessed, Nikolai." You weren't stupid. And you knew Nikolai. As soon as the first wave of pain and betrayal passed, you realized that it must have been a strategic move on his part. Not that it made anything better.

"You...did?" He almost stammered, eyes widening in surprise.

"Of course," you sighed, "but it doesn't make anything better. So if this is all you had to say, I'm afraid it doesn't change anything."

"But- it changes everything. I don't love Alina, I never have." He insisted, standing up from the bed and taking a step in your direction.

"You would have still married her though, wouldn't you?" You pointed out with a rhetorical question that he still felt like answering.

"Well, I-"

"And you didn't tell me anything, did you?" You continued this time without giving him time to speak. "So yes, maybe you didn't love her. Maybe you loved me but would that matter once you were married to her?"

"I'll tell you: no it wouldn't have. Because as much as I loved you, I wouldn't have let you made me your mistress. And you and Alina are good friends, I'm sure you'd grow to love her with time." Your voice has hardened, failing at carelessly exposing an eventual love blooming between them. But Nikolai didn't notice. He was still at the second sentence.

"Loved?"He whispered. Past tense.

"Did you expect me to hold a torch forever?" Your voice softened at his reaction but still- you weren't going to be around forever. He had made his choice, after all.

"Of course not," Nikolai mumbled as he sat down on the bed again and looked down at your sweatshirt still in his hands. You couldn't see his face and you knew that it was a deliberate move. Never had you seen him to defeated and crestfallen. His shoulders slumped, his fingers fisted the material in his hands.

Sighing, you closed the distance between you and sat beside him on the bed. Maybe you had been too harsh but it was an instinct for you to be so defensive. Even though his betrayal had hurt you immensely, hurting him back was never your intention.

"I don't think I could ever stop loving you." You whispered. Eyes latched on your fumbling fingers, you heave a sigh. This felt like the confession it was.

"But you can't expect me to be fine just because you explained Nikolai. It doesn't excuse the lies or the betrayal." You continued, wanting him to understand. Now that everything was out in the open, it was best to speak heart to heart.

"Indeed it doesn't. And I'm sorry I've hurt you, it was never my intention." He agreed and apologised but you shook your head. What good was it an apology now? It wasn't a matter of forgiveness anymore. There was now a lack of trust and you didn't know how to handle it.

"How do you think I would have reacted? What if she said yes, uh? What then, Nikolai? Would an "I love you" fix everything?" Speaking no matter the lump of your throat, you turned to face him. His eyes were already on you. They were glossy and one of his hands reached out to yours to hold it.

"I knew she was going to say no. And I knew that it was a low move on my part considering that you're my whole heart but I couldn't have lived with myself if I didn't at least try," he confessed. You nodded because you knew how much he cared for Ravka's future and having Alina on the throne would no doubt have a positive impact on all fronts.

"Because having her on the throne would have been advantageous for us, for Ravka. It would benefit us in so many ways that I had to try, at least. No matter the sacrifice." The last word came out as a whisper, his eyes flickering between yours and you understood the underlying message. But that was exactly the problem.

"What hurt me the most, Nikolai was that you made the decision for both of us."

"I'm not a strategist but I understand the power Alina holds. It would have still hurt but if you had told me, it would have been different." You explained as his eyes filled with an emotion that you recognized as regret.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I never wanted you to feel like you don't matter to me. Because you do. You have no idea how much you do. And I love you, I really do." His hold on your hands tightened and you were surprised to see how his lower lip trembled a bit.

"I love you too, Kolya." You confessed, unable to pretend the contrary. "But I don't know where to go from here."

"You don't owe me anything, my sweet. I wanted you to know and now you do. That's more than I deserve." One of his hands came up to caress your cheek as he gave you a small smile. You actually leaned to him, missing the touch, the closeness.

You missed him.

And yes, he had made a mistake. Yes, he had hurt you. But was it to the point of no return? To be fair, you knew that nothing had actually happened between him and Alina besides the proposal. And sure, that was certainly enough on its own but in a way that meant that it hadn't actually cheated.

He had surely betrayed your trust and lied to you. But trust could be regained. And work could be done on your relationships so as not to have these communication problems again.

The question is: were you willing to put yourself through that? Because it was not going to be easy. And there was a chance that it wasn't going to work.

His eyes boring on yours, you hoped to convey your insecurity to him. You knew he loved you. And you dearly loved him too. Maybe you could give him a second chance. If love was there maybe it was worth it to put in the effort to make it work.

Scratch that- it definitely was.

"What about what I deserve?" You whispered as your hands wrapped around his on your face.

"Everything and more, my love." His eyes flickered between yours hopefully. Trying to see if he could find the confirmation in them of what your words implied.

"Well, I think that I deserve a prince." You stated with a small smile.

"Even if he's unworthy of you?" He insisted, raising an eyebrow but mirroring your smile.

"I guess I can give him another chance to prove himself."

"He'd be most grateful, my dear. But I'm afraid he'll never deserve you." His face got closer to yours, nose almost touching. He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb stroking your cheeks.

"Enough with the charming, Kolya, I'm already yours. Come and get me." You chuckled with a roll of your eyes before eagerly tugging him closer to you.

"As you wish." He said before he kissed you. Slowly at first, almost as if he couldn't still believe that it was happening. Then with the hold on your face, he pulled you closer angling your face so as to deepen the kiss.

Your old sweatshirt laid discarded on your bedroom floor. Forgotten for the moment as you caught up on your lost time together.

[mythiccheroacademia]

What You Fight About

part 2

A/N: just something I thought about

Headcanon: what you two would fight about the most

Warnings: toxic behaviors, yelling, cursing, angst

Midoriya Izuku:

his absence

being the number one hero is demanding

it’s also been his dream since he could remember

you understood that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t frustrate you when he’d disappear for days at a time

izuku tries to balance his job and home life

but it isn't enough

~~~

You and Izuku don’t fight much. In fact, you never really do. You’re both so compromising that disagreements rarely happen.

But when your kid is involved, that complacency slips away. Even when it comes to one another.

“I’m done talking about this.”

“Honey, why won’t you just listen to me?” he begged, but the irritation in his tone gave it more sharpness than he intended. “[S/N] doesn’t need the tutor. It’s just the teacher.”

You began to pick up the leftover toys from floor more so to expel pent up energy rather than to simply clean. You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Excuse me?” Midoriya snipped. His eyes followed you as you discarded the toys and crossed your arms beside the couch, finally giving him your attention. “I think I know my own son, Y/N.”

Izuku cared so much for your child and you knew that. But that underlying message your brain processed within his words pissed you off.

“And you think I don’t?”

“I just don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”

An incredulous laugh left your lips before they moved into a frown. “He’s failing 4th grade, Izuku. We can’t move him to a different classroom every time he gets a bad grade. At some point, we have to take responsibility! He needs the extra help!”

“You just don’t understand,” the hero muttered, running a hand through his hair.

What he said shouldn’t have set you off, but it did. Everything suddenly flooded your head. All the stress you had to deal with alone bubbled up your throat and exploded.

“No, you don’t understand!”

“Yes I do!”

“How!? You’re barely in his fucking life anyways!”

It went silent shortly after that.

The outburst felt good, but the aftermath made your squeeze with guilt. Izuku’s frown softened into shock before melting into something deeper than pain.

Once your words finally processed through your head, you immediately tried to take it back.

“Izuku, I didn’t mean that—”

“Yes you did.”

You thickly swallowed and averted your eyes to the floor. He was right. You did. You’d been wanting to say it for so long, but this wasn’t the way you planned to deliver those thoughts.

Your gaze moved back to your husband once he gathered his duffle bag and slid on his shoes.

“Baby,” you sighed, your voice much softer than before. It was almost insane how easily the anger left you. “Where are you going?”

You wilted with his next words. “I’ll stay over at the agency. To give you some space. We’ll talk more after we’ve both cooled down,” he sadly smiled.

Despite the hurt silver-lining his green eyes, Midoriya softly held your chin and kissed your forehead. Something he always did when your disagreements didn’t end on a good note. As if to reassure you that, even though he was upset, he still loved you all the same.

And that just made you feel worse.

“’Zuku—”

“Don’t worry about [S/N]. I’ll take him to school tomorrow.” He paused to look you in your eyes. “I love you, always.”

“I love you too,” you quietly resigned and watched him disappear behind the front door leaving you to let your head fall into your hands.

Bakugo Katsuki

his jealousy

bakugo is confident in many areas of his life

it’s one of his qualities that won you over

but he still had those tiny insecurities that showed up in large ways

aka losing you

and he had no idea how to handle it

~~~

The alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea considering Bakugo was already noticeably pissed on the way to the house party. But everyone assumed it was just another one of his moods he’d get over sooner or later. He wasn’t a drinker, but a beer or two usually loosened him up.

However, your friends looked at each other with worry behind the door to the room you two were in. Despite the party lights and booming stereo, they could hear the angry muffled yelling you two were doing.

You were 100% drunk, but you were 110% sure this man was telling you to stay away from your friend. Your best friend.

“If it’s one thing you have, it’s the audacity,” you sassily quipped.

“I’m not fucking playing around with you, Y/N,” Bakugo snapped with too much bite than you cared to hear. “I want you to stay away from that two-bagged eyed bastard!”

“You always do this! Shinsou’s my friend!”

The redness in his ears wasn’t only from the drinks as his nostrils flared with barely contained irritation. “Friend my ass. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, and that fucker had the nerve to grab you in front of me!”

“He was moving me out of the way!”

“He fucking felt you up is what he did!”

You smacked your teeth, entirely done with the argument. You weren’t getting anywhere. “Now you’re just being delusional.”

Bakugo pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out in a desperate attempt to calm himself. A feat even he was surprised about considering the situation. He tried so hard to not be as explosive, to reign in his emotions, for you. But his jealousy burned hot within his veins.

“Y/N. I’m asking you, as your man, to put some distance between you and Shinsou,” he lowly warned.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Like hell I will. Hitoshi’s been here longer than you have by years. I’m not gonna drop him just because you feel insecure.”

That withered away any form of self-restraint Katsuki had left. He felt exposed and hurt. And dealt with that the best way he knew how.

His hazy brain clouded over with anger and he went on the defensive.

“I bet you want him.”

“What? No I don’t?”

“You’re probably sleeping with him behind my fucking back,” he dryly laughed. “Am I not good enough anymore? Is that it?”

You were quickly sobering up. “What the fuck is wrong with you!? Of course not! I’m not a cheater!”

“Then why won’t cut him off, damn it!?”

Your voices rose in volumes too high for comfort. The crackle in his palms didn’t scare you one bit, but it was enough for Kirishima and Mina to come in and try to separate you two.

You ignored their pleading and the two of your found each other in the other’s face.

“Why are you so jealous!?”

“BECAUSE HE’S TAKING YOU AWAY FROM ME!!”

“NO HE’S NOT!

“IT’S SO EASY FOR YOU TO DEFEND HIM AND PROBABLY JUST AS EASY FOR YOU TO SPREAD YOUR FUCKING LEGS—"

A resounding slap cut him short. That seemed to snap him out of whatever alcohol induced rage he was in. However, Bakugo only had a moment to register your expression of disgust before Kirishima pulled him away.

“Fuck you, asshole” was the last thing you said before Mina lead into the hallway.

Kirishima watched his friend’s breathing turn ragged with each puff.

“Come on, man. Let’s just—”

“FUCK!” Katsuki roared before throwing a nearby water bottle to the floor. He fisted his hair and clenched his teeth.

He messed up. Big time.

And as upset as he was with himself, he couldn’t help but be even angrier at the thought of who you’d run to first.

Todoroki Shouto:

how blunt he is

he was a bit socially inept and you loved him for that

but sometimes, you get frustrated

todoroki does too because 9 times out of 10 he doesn’t understand why

when you get angry, he completely shuts down bc he doesn’t know how to handle it any other way

and it didn’t help that he was petty asf

~~~

“Okay.”

You looked up and folded your lips in a tight line. It was the same monotone answer he’d been giving you all day and it was getting on your nerves.

“Sho, baby, can you at least try and act like you somewhat care about this vacation we’re planning,” you said as sweetly as possible.

Although you were annoyed, you understood that things flew over your boyfriend’s head sometimes and, hopefully, a little nudge would point him in the right direction.

“I’m listening, prince(ss),” he dimly responded.

He didn’t bother to look up from the papers he was reading at the table and it made you huff. Folding up the magazine, you just stalked your way out of the kitchen.

“You know what? Don’t even bother. I’ll do it myself.”

That made Shouto look up. His brows furrowed in confusion and he caught your hand before you could completely pass by him. Why were you suddenly upset? He told you he was listening.  

“Hey, wait. What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked.

You let him pull you in between his legs. He looked genuinely lost and it was enough to soften your exterior.

“I just feel like you don’t care sometimes,” you said, deciding to just be blunt.

“Huh?” he hummed. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know…it just seems like you don’t have an interest in anything I have to say if it doesn’t involve hero work, your family, or something like that.”

Todoroki took offense to that. Of course he cared about what you had to say. He loved you. Just because he wasn’t gripping on to every word you spoke in mundane life didn’t mean he didn’t care.

There were ways to express his thoughts, but Shouto wasn’t always the best at gently doing it.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t agree,” he said.

You looked off to the side for a second before looking down at him. “Well that’s how I feel,” you retorted.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong.”

You watched him for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself. However, he just stared back at you as if there was nothing else left to say. The silence was sickening.

You snatched your hand out his grip. “Okay, Shouto,” you bit and left.

He hadn’t heard his first name in a while.

Your boyfriend dumbly blinked already feeling more lost. He didn’t understand why you were so angry.

He called Midoriya about it and was told he was being intolerant. The entire conversation honestly made him feel like an asshole and Todoroki didn’t like that at all. So he gave you some space before finding you in the kitchen again, this time equipped to right his wrongs—even though he still wasn’t entirely sure what he did.

He called your name once and instead of responding, you just kept going about your task. That sort of miffed him, but he tried again. This time, you hummed back but the tension behind it made him feel defensive for some odd reason.

“Can we talk about this morning?”

“What? Are my feelings suddenly valid to you now?” you sarcastically replied.

Todoroki raised a sharp brow at your attitude and decided he was over it already. Here he was trying to apologize, and you were being difficult. He wouldn’t fight with you over something so insignificant.

“Fine. When you’re done with your little tantrum, we can talk about this like adults.”

You’d never spun around so quickly. “Really, Todoroki?”

Last name basis. Petty.

But he was even pettier.

“Yes, really, [L/N].”

His half-lidded bored stare made your scalp prickle.

“Fine. Me and my little tantrum are gonna go somewhere and you can plan the vacation all by yourself like the adult you are.”

“Fine. I’d probably get it done faster anyways.”

You let out an offended gasp. “Fine!”

“Fine!” he tsked, crossing his arms.

You two looked away from one another and stomped out of the room in childish anger.

[andreafmn]

Choices - Part 1

Word Count: 3,913

Requested: by me; inspired by a TikTok POV

Story Description: After the snap (Y/N) and Steve decided to shift their friendship into a romantic relationship. After the Battle of Earth, and Thanos’s ultimate defeat, Steve had to travel back in time to return the stones, but what (Y/N) doesn’t know is he’s not returning. The man leaves to his best friend the hard task to break the news to his lover. But what will happen if Steve returns in an unexpected manner? 

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part: 1/3

A/N: I just gotta say I only have spoiled knowledge of what happens in Endgame because I refuse to acknowledge its existence and I’ll never watch it. Anything I write that is not cannon, whoops. But this one-shot is inspired by a POV I stumbled upon in TikTok and I just needed to write. Had to divide it into two parts because it was getting too long.

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                                                        ***

 It had taken 6 years and losing almost everyone we loved for Steve and me to admit our feelings for each other. After seeing our closest friends dissipate into fine dust we decided life was too short to wait for the right time. 

That was 5 years ago. Our relationship had been solidified as the years went on and the loss of Nat and Tony in the Battle of Earth only bringing us closer.

But something had changed. These past few days Steve had grown distant and quiet, only acknowledging me when we were in our bedroom or stuck in training. All I could attribute it to was that he was nervous about traveling to return the stones. Normally, he would talk to me about what was clouding his mind but nowadays he was acting as if we were strangers. 

Thankfully, I had a friend to occupy my time with. Bucky and I had developed a close friendship since meeting him back when he still was the Winter Soldier. Being part of his recovery was the catalyst to the relationship we have today. Losing him in the blip was horribly heartbreaking but it brought me and Steve closer. Now that he was back, I was able to have someone I could confide in the understood the Captain’s brain. 

“Hey, Buck,” I announced my arrival as I saw Bucky getting some water in the kitchen. “Couldn’t sleep?” 

“Not really,” he sighed. “The nightmares, you know?” 

He was right, I did know. Although I wasn’t blipped I had my own demons I was still battling with. “Yeah, I get it. I’m making grilled cheese, do you want some?” 

“Grilled cheese? At 3 am?” He chuckled. “What’s wrong?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Come on, (Y/N). You only eat grilled cheese at this time when you’re worried about something.”

“You know me too well,” I sighed. “It’s Steve. He’s been really weird this past few days.” 

“Weird how?”

“He’s been kinda avoiding me lately and I don’t know why.” A few tears were threatening to spill, but I did my best to dry them before they fell. “It’s like nothing I do is good enough, like he’d rather be anywhere but close to me. Does he hate me? Is it something I did?” 

Bucky got up from the chair he was sat in and wrapped me in a hug. I couldn’t hold off the tears this time. “There’s nothing you could do that would make that man hate you, he’s probably just in his head about traveling in time.” 

“I thought so, but why wouldn’t he talk to me about it. There’s not a single thing we haven’t been able to talk about up to ‘til now. What’s so important about this that he can’t talk to me about it.” 

“Don’t stress yourself over this, doll. I’m sure after tomorrow everything would go back to how it was.”

Bucky’s POV

And at that time I did believe it. Knowing Steve I really thought he was just nervous about the journey he had to take in the morning. That was until he said he needed to talk with me. 

“What is it, punk? You too nervous?” I chuckled until I saw the serious face he held. 

“I need a favor from you, Buck, and you might not like it.” 

“You’re scaring me, Steve. What’s wrong?” I couldn’t help but think that this had to do with why he was avoiding (Y/N). 

“When I go back today, I’m not coming back in 5 seconds.” 

“What are you talking about, Steve?” 

“I’m going to stay back and have a life with Peggy. This is my last chance to be with her and I’m taking it,” he ran his hands through his face. He knew what he was asking of me and he knew it wasn’t fair. “I need you to tell (Y/N) for me once I’m gone. She’s gonna need someone to lean on and I need it to be you.” 

“You can’t do that, Rogers. It’s not fair to me and it’s definitely not fair to her. (Y/N) loves you with her whole being. This is going to crush her.” He had been ignoring her out of guilt and he was leaving all these feelings behind in a couple of hours, leaving me to deal with the aftermath. “You know, she’s been beating herself over you avoiding her and I thought it was just nerves. But this is a new low; the Steve I know would never do this.” 

“Bucky, I’m sorry. I just think it’ll go over quicker if it comes from you.” 

“What you’re doing is cleaning your hands of a mess you’re making.” The anger was boiling inside of me by now. (Y/N) did not deserve this ending, she did not deserve to have her heart broken in such a cowardly way. 

“Please, Bucky. I don’t think I could tell her face to face.” He took a paper out of his back pocket. “I wrote her this letter, hopefully, it’ll help things to smooth over. Please, Buck, please. You have to believe me when I tell you the last thing I want to do is hurt her.”

I snatched the letter from his hands and guarded it in my jacket pocket. “I’ll do it only because I owe you my life and she’ll need someone once I break her heart for you. But, I get it.” 

“Thanks, bud. I know that for now, it must seem like a horrible thing to do but hopefully in time you’ll see my point of view.” I accepted the hug he offered. Although my head was telling me to be loyal to Steve, my heart was breaking at the thought of breaking (Y/N)’s. 

Before I knew it, Sam, Bruce, (Y/N), Steve, and I were standing in front of the machine that would be the catalyst of inevitable heartbreak. 

3rd person’s POV

“Well, this is it,” Steve whispered. They were standing to the right as Banner made sure everything was ready for Steve’s trip. 

“You know, it’s not too late to back out,” (Y/N)’s hands traveled to his chest. “We can have someone else go.” 

“It has to be me, (Y/N). But I’ll be back before you know it, doll.” His head lowered and left a deep kiss on her lips. They lingered for longer than usual, and she couldn’t help but imagine that there was an underlying message to it. “You know I love you, right? And I would never do anything to purposely hurt you, right?”

“Of course, Steve. I love you, too.” (Y/N) smiled and kissed him once more, allowing him to engulf her in a tight hug. “Be careful, okay? I can’t lose you too.” 

“I will,” he smiled. “Now, I’ve gotta go.”

“I know, be safe.” She smiled once more as she watched Steve get on the machine. She made her way over to Bucky, his arm circling her shoulders. “It’s just 5 seconds, right?” 

“Yup,” he smiled, ignoring the burning sensation coming from the paper inside his jacket. “Just five seconds.”

“Ready, Cap?” asked Bruce from behind the control panel. Steve nodded, one hand on Mjolnir and another on the case that held the Infinity Stones. “Alright, we’ll meet you back here, okay?” 

“You bet,” he responded. Two of the people present knew that it was a lie, but no one else had picked up on it yet. His head was encircled by the helmet and he stared at the two people that meant the most to him in this lifetime. Hurting them was the hardest thing he had to do, but he had been living for everyone else for too long. He decided that it was time to do something for himself. 

“Going quantum in 3, 2, 1,” Bruce announced. A breath hitched in (Y/N)’s throat as the time went down, all she had to do was brace herself for five seconds. Banner hit the button and (Y/N) had to blink various times to fully grasp the disappearance of the man she loved. He had vanished as quick as a thought, one second there and the next just a memory. “And returning in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1....”

Nothing. Bruce clicked the button and nothing happened. The body of Captain America was nowhere in sight. 

“Bruce, what the hell is going on?” (Y/N) spoke up, but she wasn’t sure if her voice was heard. Her mind raced a million miles an hour and she could feel her legs giving out. Had it not been for Bucky’s left arm, she would have crashed to the floor. Bruce stammered with his words, not knowing what to say. “Bucky, where is he, Bucky? Where’s Steve?” 

Bucky knew it would hurt to see her cry, but this was shattering his heart. Her body was falling limp in his arms and the tears were streaming out of her eyes faster than he could dry them. Her words were slurred but he understood the gist of it. She was hurt; she was betrayed; she was beyond heartbroken. 

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Bucky led her to the tent that was propped up behind them. “There’s something you should know.” 

“What is it, Buck?” She sobbed. 

“Please don’t hate me, but Steve is not coming back.” The girl looked up at her friend, not know what emotion she was feeling in the moment. Her tears stopped momentarily, needing to hear the words that would spill from Bucky’s mouth. “Steve decided to go back in time and have a life with Peggy. He needed you to know that he didn’t want to hurt you. He also left you this note.” 

Her shaky hands extended to take hold of the piece of paper Bucky handed her. She dried away the tears that were clouding her eyes and began reading. 

My dearest doll,

 If you are reading this letter, you know I am not coming back. I decided to take hold of the chance to have the life I would’ve had if I stayed in the 40s. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling in this moment, and I’m sorry for all the hurt I know I’m causing you. I need you to know that I never knew I could love someone after Peggy and I’m thankful for all the years we had together. I was in love with you and I still am, but I could not continue on knowing I have a chance to answer one of my biggest ‘what if’s. I could not go on in our life with the weight of my past on our shoulders, you deserve better than that. I hope you can pardon how big of a coward I am being in the moment, I knew I couldn’t do this face-to-face and you deserve at least a worded explanation of why I left. You are strong, amazing, beautiful, and deserving of all the love in the world; I’m sorry I couldn’t provide it. I want you to promise me that you’ll move on and be happy, even if it’s not with me. I also hope you don’t hate Bucky for being the bearer of bad news, he didn’t know until today and I gave him no other choice thant to tell you. If there’s someone that can understand what you are feeling right now, it is him.

I hope one day you will forgive me for this,

I love you until the end of the line.

Steve

She folded the paper back up and broke down once again. Bucky engulfed her in a hug and held her as she shook. “He’s gone, Buck. He went back to be with Peggy. I wasn’t enough for him.” 

“Oh, doll, I’m so sorry.” 

“Guys, we’ve got to head back,” Sam peeked his head through the tent, heartbroken by the view in front of him. “I’ve got her, Buck. Go get the truck started.” 

Bucky released (Y/N) into the arms of Sam Wilson, and left to start the car to head back to the tower. Sam ran his hands over the sobbing girl’s hair trying his best to soothe her. Even though he didn’t fully understand the situation she was in, he got the jist of it. After everything was packed back up, (Y/N) had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms, so he picked her up and laid her on his lap to not wake her. She would be needing all the rest she could get. 

“You guys good back there?” Bucky asked.  

“Yeah, she’s out like a light,” Sam whispered. 

“Good, she’s gonna need all the energy she can get to recover.”

“What happened?” 

“Steve decided to stay back and be with Peggy; left me to tell her the news.” Busky gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were pale white, his anger building up inside him. 

“Wow, I never expected that from the Cap. I don’t think it’ll be easy for her to move on from this.” He looked down at the sleeping figure in his lap, wiping away the few tears that had slipped out in her slumber. “She might be physically strong, but she’s very sensitive and rarely gets attached.”

“I still don’t understand why he chose to do it this way. The little punk.”

The duo waited until Banner was inside the truck before leaving the spot they were in and back home. Unbeknownst to them, behind the trees, a figure stared at the scene in front of him with a broken heart.

                                                           ***

It had been almost three weeks of robotic movements from (Y/N). She would wake up, sometimes eat, sit in front of a window and stare down the New York skyline; other times she would lay in bed wearing one of Steve’s shirts and sprayed the room with his cologne as she sobbed into his pillow. There were the nights that she drowned her sorrows in a bottle of whatever liquor she could find, until the other members started hiding the bottles. But that didn’t stop her from stashing a couple of bottles in her closet. Nighttime was always the hardest. (Y/N) had grown used to falling asleep in Steve’s arms and being engulfed in his warmth. Now, she thrashed around in a bed that was too big, too cold, and too uncomfortable.

The rest of the team had tried their best to lift her spirits, but nothing seemed to work too well. Sam tried his best to make her favorite meals, which she gave thanks for but rarely ate, pushing the food around in the plate; Bucky tried to entice some emotion by asking her to join him in clearing his list of movies to watch to catch up on the times, but she would zone out for most of the movie; Bruce would ask her to join him in his afternoon reading sessions, but every time she picked up a book she re-read the same page over and over not retaining a single word; Wanda would try her best to get her to partake in normal hygiene practices, which the girl had held off on for a couple of days, only getting her to shower every other day.

(Y/N) was a walking zombie, doing the bare minimum to survive.

But today she had woken up differently, her heart hurting a little less than the other days. She got into the shower, brushed her teeth, and even got dressed in her own clothes. It was three in the afternoon, but she was up. She was detangling her hair when her bedroom door opened.

“You’re awake?” Bucky said, startled to see a clean and awake (Y/N) in front of him. “Don’t mean to sound so surprised, but I came in here with the intention to startle you awake once again.”

The girl chuckled and continued her brushing. “Thought it was time to do something by myself.”

“Here, let me.” Bucky took the brush from her hands and started brushing through her damp hair. It finally smelled of her normal shampoo and conditioner, and not a mix of her hair oils and Steve’s cologne. The smell of strawberries and vanilla emanated from her head and Bucky couldn’t help but breathe in deep. His left hand ran the hairbrush through her hair as his right hand smoothed it down. (Y/N) leaned into his touch and smiled at the comforting strokes he was providing. Unknowingly, Bucky started humming a lullaby under his breath.

“What are you humming?”

“It’s a Russian lullaby I overheard one night while under HYDRAs hold. There’s not much I like to remember from those times, but this I don’t mind.”

“I like it,” she rocked to the movements of his hands and smiled as she listened intently to his humming. She couldn’t see him, but the veteran was smiling at her. It had been the first time she had shown any kind of emotion in the time that had elapsed. He finished her hair in a sloppy braid, not fully understanding the mechanics of the three-strand braid. “Thank you, Buck.”

“How’re you feeling today, (Y/N)?” He finally asked.

“I’m feeling better, don’t know how long it will take to get me to 100% but I’m feeling like a 45% today.”

“That’s good to hear, you know. It’s better than where we started.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leaned into him, enjoying the warmth his body emanated. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“Have not gotten up to that point.”

“Well, Sam’s already cooking up something in the kitchen and I’m on the second movie of The Lord of the Rings, so we can watch that one.”

“Okay, that sounds good.” She smiled at the man that was next to her as they exited her room.

The rest of the team had gathered in the kitchen, working on ways to cheer (Y/N) up when they saw her emerge from the hallway with a small smile on her face. Everyone’s jaw fell open when they saw the girl looking partly human and with a spark of energy. It had been a while since she had resembled the (Y/N) they knew and loved.

“Guys, please pick up your mouths off the floor, your eyes do not deceive you.” (Y/N) joked.

“Glad to see you’re alive, (Y/N),” Sam spoke. “Come have some food.” 

She smiled at her friend and sat next to Wanda as Sam placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her. Bucky served himself and her a cup of coffee and added the cream and sugar she enjoyed with her drink. She happily munched on the food as the people around her stared in astonishment.

Thankfully, the staring didn’t last long. Wanda and Sam had a quick recon mission and Bruce had some work to finish in the lab, leaving Bucky and (Y/N) to enjoy The Two Towers in peace. Bucky had the curtains drawn and the movie all set up as (Y/N) took out blankets and made a hole between all the pillows that adorned the couch. The duo settled into their spot and bundled themselves in the blankets, settling in for the 226 minutes of the extended version of the movie.

She wasn’t sure at what point in the movie she fell asleep, but she was woken up by Bucky softly shaking her awake. She mumbled something she didn’t even understand, so Bucky decided to carry her to her bed. (Y/N) had burned too much energy by being around too many people too fast. It didn’t seem like a lot but being around the whole team had taken a toll on her. The sun had started to set and so were the last slivers of happiness she had felt.

Bucky set her down on her bed, tucking the blankets around her. He turned to leave when a small hand wrapped around his right wrist. He looked down and saw a teary-eyed (Y/N) looking up at him.

“Stay, please.” Her voice was barely a whisper and it trembled slightly. She was the vision of the heartbreaking scene that had hurt him three weeks ago.

He smiled softly at the girl and went around the bed to climb in. “Today was hard, huh?”

“Yeah, I thought I was ready to go back to normal, but it took too much out of me. I feel so useless.”

“You are far from useless, doll. You’re hurting, darling, we all understand.” He pulled her in close and laid her head on his chest, the thin layer becoming wet with her tears. “It’ll get better someday, that’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“How do you know?” 

“Because we all do, after a while we all get better.”

“I wish we knew how long a while was. Everything would be easier.” 

“I know, doll, but let’s take it all one day at a time. Just remember you’re not alone. You have me – and the rest of the team.” He cleared his throat trying to disguise the importance she held in his life. Bucky would have never said anything, but he had fallen for the girl. He held her already in high regard for the care she had given to his best friend, but his feelings had started to shift when she started caring for him while they were on the run.

“Thank you, Buck. I don’t know where I would be without you.” She laid a kiss on his chest and drifted to sleep with Bucky’s arm rubbing circles on her back.

One more week had gone by and (Y/N) had grown used to having Bucky sleep with her at night. He had helped her pack away all the things Steve had left in the room – specifically the cologne that still hunted her, – he started waking her up earlier and making sure she got at least two full meals a days before she went to bed, and he made sure that she didn’t spend her nights crying for a man he called his best friend.

All of Bucky’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed. The remaining Avengers had noticed how the ex-assassin cared for the broken girl, going further than the rest of them did. And his feelings for the girl did not fly by the mind-reading witch that currently stared at him preparing lunch for (Y/N).

“When will you tell her how you feel?” The redhead spoke, casually sipping on a cup of coffee.

“What do you mean, Wanda?” 

“What she means is that you’ve been in love with that girl for far too long and it’s time you confess already,” Sam jeered. “Nothing’s stopping you now.”

“Except for the fact that she’s still reeling from my best friend breaking her heart by going back in time and leaving her to be with someone else. I’m sure she’ll be jumping with joy if I confess right now,” he mocked. “Anyways, how did you know?” 

“You’re not very secretive about it,’’ Sam laughed. “You’re always in a sour mood but magically when you’re with her you become someone else. The White Wolf become (Y/N)’s puppy real quick!’’

“I am not that obvious with it.”

“Okay, lil’ pup.”

“Whatever. Anyways, it’s not the right time for that.”

“When will it be the right time then, Bucky?” Wanda inquired.

“I don’t know. But it’s not right now.”  He plated what he was cooking and headed to (Y/N)’s room. The last thing she needed at the moment was a new relationship, even if that’s all Bucky wanted. 

[kusagrasskusa]

Michael Myers X Murderer! Reader - Headcannons - "Death Card"

Also, thank you (Wattpad Person) for requesting this :) I know your the last request I got, so I prolly should have done someone else's request first, but your's was just easiest to find. (Also, I have it bad for Michael so )

Have fun reading this! I'm writing this on my laptop instead of computer so sorry if the formatting turns out worse than usual :/

Also...someone made fun of me for putting, "eight," and, "11," in the same sentence. I guess not many people know this, but anything under ten is supposed to be written out unless their fractions or decimals.

By the way, these basically aren't headcannons lol. It's just me wanting to write out a story but not being good enough to so I just write it down in simpler terms.

Enjoy~

Not only is Y/N just another famous murder who casually takes the lives of people, but she's amazing at hiding

..........until-

Y/N was an abusive home after her parents died when she was a toddler. Her aunt and uncle neglected her but karma came back at them when their car fell off a bridge, causing the pair to drown. The downside for the young Y/N was that she was put into a foster institution. And we all know by now that foster care are full of fights, drugs, weed, alcohol, and shitty employees.

As a young girl entering such a bad place, she was always a target. You know that sense of fear, worthlessness, and loneliness fucked with her head to where she felt lashing out felt great.

She would be unable to stop herself as she plunged a sharp object in and out of this prick that held her down for so long. But once she heard voices from other kids, she ran.

The story made headlines as the next big attack from yet another child. That's right, next. There was someone who inspired her to do what she did.

Of course, she always had that memory in the back of her head. That boy's violent actions filled her with immeasurable awe when she saw the news. However, she always had something more important to think about.

With so much dissatisfaction with her past, she could only fill herself up with adding things on to her in the present, and more in the future.

Y/N would steal Poker cards from people and always use the Ace of Spades to mark her kills by sliding the card into a wound. After all, betting games were the highlight of her day in the foster institution. She was always so good at it that it became her pride.

All these headlines and stories about how evil she is became such a big deal in her head. Such an overwhelming feeling of adrenaline every time she heard the name people would call her.

"The Death Card," is another name for Ace of Spades in most English countries. It was the perfect fit for Y/N.

(Ya'll, I feel like a fucking genius for coming up with that lol)

She was so good at hiding, truly. Kill someone in Kentucky, then move to Missouri. Killing someone there and move to Georgia, and so on.

Only in her hometown was she caught.

Michael was the one who started it all for her, as their same age and hometown made her feel connected to him, and finally where he got caught would be the same place she did.

14 years of hiding and killing led her to meeting him

Michael spent these 14 years sitting in complete silence. No talking, no humming, no singing, nothing. It's like he was always in his own world of thought, too busy in his imagination to interact with the real world.

Of course, there was times when he did pay attention to what's around him.

The news was the only thing he'd really pay close attention to. After all, what if something happens to Haddonfield while's he's stuck in there, and that causes plenty of people he once knew to move away?

But per usual, there was nothing about it

But there was something that caught his attention even by a little

"After 14 years, the notorious Death Card or Card of Death has finally been caught," says the Haddonfield Police Department. "While we're unsure of her motives thus far, we have been able to learn of who she is. Y/N L/N made the headlines once in 1980 at the age of eight as one of America's biggest crime cases with children as the culprit, having brutally stabbed a 15 year old boy. This happened just two years after the Michael Myers case, when a six year old boy stabbed his older sister in 1978. All else the HPD are saying is that her frantic behavior may lead her to a mental institution rather than letting her make legal decisions in court."

Michael paid attention to all the details of the report. For this report to be made about Haddonfield, chances are they'll be meeting each other soon.

The Death Card was a violent killer Michael heard of plenty of times however he never paid close attention to.

(Holy shit these are just headcannons so why am I writing long paragraphs)

He had to say, hearing about her violent stabbings were the highlight of his week. Even if he never felt strong about hearing other people having fun with their lives like she was, he couldn't help but almost feel pushed to do what she is. Living freely and ending those who cross his path...

Saying he was jealous or inspired would be a stretch though

He would spend his days painting paper mache masks while thinking of doing what she was for sure but he hated how she would show off by using those cards as if she didn't have a goal in mind, which was annoying to him. If you have nothing to live for, then kill yourself was his mindset.

Michael watched as Y/N stepped into court. He know hundreds- no thousands- of people watched as this woman of pure evil stepped into the courtroom. Her H/C hair flowed as she walked passed everyone, glaring at them with her cold E/C eyes.

A look of slight intrigue replaced his normal dull expression as he watched the girl stand up before the judge, smiling sassily at the cameras as to tell them to fuck off. Michael can recognize that look of intrusion on her face as she was practically interrogated. Clearly, she hated it there.

He watched contently as all the mystery surrounding the Card of Death was revealed to everyone in this world. Days went by of this court case before finally, she pled insanity. After all, she was known to have some underlying mental conditions as she remained so calm when talking about the varies of ways she would kill.

It's easy to see that many felt bad for the girl. Such trauma growing up led to the creation of this unfortunate human. But Michael? He didn't feel bad at all.

He never was sad or truly sympathetic however...he did feel pity. Somewhere in his soulless eyes held pity for this sad, sad girl he was soon to meet. Not exactly sympathy, but simply pity. And with that came respect.

The day that Y/N stepped foot into those doors was the day the two would meet for the very first times. Over 63 counts of first degree murder in 14 years led to the meeting of these two serial killers. At the time, they were both only 20.

Tables were scattered across the room with people talking or simply sitting alone by themselves on them. There was TV in a few different places around the room and board games in a couple of shelves. In the back of the large room was windows that showed the outside that felt so out of reach forever.

As the metal doors slammed behind her, she felt eyes on her immediately. Y/N slowly scanned the room as she gulped back the intense fear gathering in her stomach. Her lips parted open as she began to breath heavily and press her back on those metal doors.

She was so trapped and scared when she first entered that foster institution. She couldn't help but think of karma when her aunt would hurt her so badly for those five years before she died. But 63 murders are so much worse, so what could karma do to her to balance her evil deeds with punishment?

Laughter and giggled filled her ears as she shut her eyes tightly and covered her face with her arms. Her vision was going blurry; she was having a panic attack. Tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered quietly to herself.

She may be the Card of Death however she never had to be in a large group of people in so long.

Her body jerked as she was suddenly pulled away from those metal doors. She cried out when she saw a large man, around 6'7 (204cm), pull her away.

In just a few seconds, she was pulled to a metal table and forced to sit as the large man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her body tensed unimaginably as they remained still for a few seconds, quiet aside from the occasional sobs of Y/N.

Then suddenly, the pressure on her shoulders disappeared. She heard nothing until the sound of creaking from the seat in front of her interrupted.

Y/N felt eyes on her. They were so intense over her.

A minute passed before her own eyes fluttered open, meeting the man's eyes in front of her.

A shiver ran down her spine when she came face to face with stone cold blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing within them. No light, no soul, and no sympathy. Not only that, but a orange mask made of paper mache covered the rest of his face as well.

The man tilted his head before lifting his hand onto the table, sliding something over to her. Y/N looked down at what he gave her.

"Don't speak. Write."

Michael had given her a paper with these words. His handwriting was hard to read considering he nearly never wrote anything so it took a moment before Y/N got the message. When she did, she looked back up at the man and nodded just a little so it was barely recognizable.

Obviously this conversation was to be secretive so she knew to barely show signs of interactions. The camera couldn't pick up on such a small nod to what evidence is there of them even interacting?

Michael slid the paper back to him and brought a pencil to the paper after erasing the original text. When he slid it back to her, it read, "Don't let anyone know what we say Y/N. They watch everything." When Y/N looked back up at him, she saw him dart his eyes from something behind her to something on the wall between them. She turned her head slightly to the side, noticing a camera on the wall. So she understood.

Michael had dropped on the pencil on the table, meaning it was her turn to reply. She erased the previous text before writing down, "Who are you? How do you know me?" When she slid it back, Michael took the pencil in his hand again.

"Michael Myers. I was a well known case two years before you. We heard a lot about you on TV."

"As in the boy who killed his sister at the age of six?"

"Yes. You know me?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as she frantically wrote down a reply. Without even noticing, the knot in her stomach had completely disappeared without a trace.

"I remember seeing your case. I thought about everyday."

Michael didn't reply immediately after reading. Instead, he waited a few minutes and stared down at the table. A look of confusion remained on Y/N's features as she impatiently waited. Then suddenly, Michael erased what was on the paper and simply drew a masked person looking somewhat like himself with a knife in his hand. He drew dead stick figures around it with blood splattering everywhere.

Michael knew that this picture would cover up all the eraser marks and writings that were still slightly visible. So when the guard that walked up behind Y/N without her knowing popped up, he didn't see any text.

Of course, this did lead to the paper being taken away. Then minutes after that, both of the pair was taken away.

If there's one thing as scary as analyzing The Shape and caring for him, it's that person who cares and analyzes him finding him interacting with someone else for the first time.

Whenever Y/N got sat down in her cell, she knew what was about to happen. She was sat down in her bed as a man she'd never seen before sat down in the chair that came with her little desk in her cell with a guard next to him.

Have you ever spoken to Michael? Are you related to him? How do you know him? How does he know you? Have you ever met his family? Why did he interact to you? Why was he drawing things for you? Does he like you? Does he hate you? Did he write to you? Did you hear him talk?

So many questions were asked by this Dr Loomis in such short amount of time. "No, no, I don't, no, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, no, no," and mostly these were your responses. No matter how many times Loomis asked, you dully replied.

You simply said he sat you down and you began to draw together, both filling in a piece of the drawing together.

And eventually, you got out.

Another day went by of "talking" to Michael.

And another.

And another.

The talks were nice and casual. What goes on in the asylum? What goes on in the outside? Who should I avoid? What's the reputation of the HPD?

Do you want to escape?

But it was only a matter of time before finally the two were friends.

Y/N was kinda just in her cell one night in bed. Then she just gasped and widened her eyes. Wait, are we friends? We're friends, right!

Michael already knew of their friendship like two weeks before she did. It felt so...wrong for him. He had always been alone and silent. How could someone like her even be so likeable to him? He didn't really understand it but he knew he hated it.

One day, the two were writing to each other per usual. Michael unintentionally added a pun in one of his comments, causing Y/N to giggle. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, strangely feeling heat rise his face and his heart speed up. It was air conditioned so he suspected he may have gotten sick.

Whenever the two had to go back to their cells, that feeling suddenly disappeared. Then it hit him. Oh fuck-

Hell, only a week later did Y/N feel herself experiencing the same symptoms. Michael notices that Y/N would shake and fidget a lot when they interacted, making him wonder of she was cold. As a friend, it was only right for him to sit next to her and hold her close to keep her warm, right? Y/N's face went red and damn that was embarrassing. But of course, that didn't mean Y/N wouldn't hug him back.

Eventually the two were basically cuddling. The two hugging each other warmly as Y/N rested her head on his chest, struggling to stay awake as they got more comfortable by the second.

But of course, Dr Loomis caught eye of that.

The doctor had been looking deep into al the interactions these two evil beings have had. They act so casual, so normal with each other, surely more than just drawing is happening between them, right?

The doctor had pulled them into his office separately to interrogate them. While Y/N bluntly answered his questions to make him just shut up as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but think to herself. She knows that she and Michael are mentally ill, but he should definitely be fixed by now. He's smart and creative and can casually talk to people, so it's like the only thing keeping him here is that the doctors are so ill-equipped that they can't make the necessary breakthrough to save him.

Of course, just a month later, another incident happened like this. Y/N was having a bad migraine so Michael got her to just sit down and wait for him during lunch. He brought over two trays of food for them and was sure to trade with Y/N so she can eat the things she likes and he could have the things she dislikes.

Another time, a bipolar guy ran into Michael and shoved him as if it was his fault. Michael shoved him back instinctively, causing a fight to disperse between the two. As security guards took notice, Y/N was quick to push Michael away softly and ball a fist to punch the fuck out of that guy- like a, "YO WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY MAN?" type shit. Y/N did this to seem like she was hitting back and that Michael hadn't done anything wrong.

And when each other's birthday's rolled around, they had their own celebration. Y/N was given her own paper mache mask as a gift and a small cupcake from the cafe. Michael was given stolen art supplies that were taken from other guests and also a cupcake.

Y/N slowly stopped having panic attacks, but she definitely had her moments. Of course, Michael sat with her through it.

Dr Loomis recorded all this shit so he can gather data on Michael. Then the question hit him: How would Michael react if Y/N was gone for a few days? Does he truly care about her or is he just using her?

If you think Michael hated Loomis before, wait til he pieced together the disappearance of girlfriend and the extensive eyesight on him from security guards. For the hell he raised about it, he had to get sterilized and put into a cell without being able to get out for a few days.

Y/N remained bored in her cell for days. So what better could she do than annoy the guard watching her? She would just talk nonstop for what felt like hours and hours. The dude watching her was just getting more pissed off by the second.

"Would you shut up? Crazy bitch," he hissed, hitting the cell door. Y/N giggled cockily, shaking her head. Even if she deserved to be yelled at for continuing to talk, the Card of Death refused to back down. But when the guard went inside her cell and locked the door behind him, she got a bit worried.

Y/N got off her bed and threatened him cockily, to which he responded with physical force.

Of course, Smith's Groove is ill-equipped so even with proof of being hit and tazed, Y/N couldn't do anything to get the guard fired. But Michael?

A full month without seeing each other was like a slow suicide. But when they finally got to see each other again, the two was sure to write so much about their time alone as if they were teenage friends discussing their fun weekends. However, things turned dark whenever Y/N brought up the guard.

Michael didn't show any emotions at all, no matter what happens. But Y/N learned to guess how he's feeling depending on how long he takes to respond. Slowed blinking as if he was in thought, and slower reading as got analyze her writing closer were typically bad signs.

About a year had passed since they met at this time. A year to plan to escape. By now, the two were both 21 and fully prepared to leave once and for all.

Whenever that security guard had walked passed Michael's cell one night, Michael had knocked on the door to signal him. Michael slipped a paper through the doorslot, as he was given paper since he doesn't talk, saying he found a dead mouse in his cell. The guard just huffed and let himself inside. Michael pointed to where the mouse supposedly was; and that was a mistake for the guard.

Right as that guard went to look, Michael got behind and covered his mouth before stabbing him in the neck with a paint brush that's but carved into a small blade. Within moments, the guard dropped dead onto the floor.

Taking the keys from the guard, Michael was able to let out nearly every single prisoner to this hell out of their cells. Including Y/N.

The world sister was the only thing left of the pair as it was engraved into the door of Michael's cell. And just like that, the two were gone.

How they got there so fast doesn't matter but eventually Y/N and Michael found an abandoned house to station at until the search around the area disappeared and they could move around quicker.

"I can't fucking believe it," Y/N cheered as she felt tears run down her face from happiness. She swayed across the room, taking in the smell of dust and air. Even something dirty felt so new to her that couldn't help but love it at the moment.

Michael would watch her as he sat down in an old wooden chair, cocking his head. His body was in complete shock as the realization of all that's happened in the past years came crashing down on him. This was the real world? This is what dust smells like? This is what shattered glass and broken wood looks like? This is what trees look like up close? This is what things look like without glass tinting the color?

This is what it feels like to celebrate with someone you love? Michael reminded himself that the girl in front of him changed his life so much. His urge to harm all around him was always so strong, but the thought of her being hurt felt a bad taste in his mouth.

He stood up from the chair, walking towards the ecstatic girl as she cried happily to herself and picked up random things to remind herself of what they feel like and all she takes for granted. She turned her head to him, smiling, "Michael, look, I found a-"

Y/N gasped as Michael gripped his mask and slowly moved it. Y/N watched in awe as for the first time, she saw her only friend in this world's real face. That pale skin and soulless eyes that she grew familiar with became so new to her again.

"Michael..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. Her face heated up as she felt the weight his eyes staring down at her. She lightly bit her lip, a shiver going down her spine.

He took a few steps closer as well, making the two remain inches away from each other. Now at this point, Y/N is questioning if Michael is gonna kill her or is gonna kiss her as he awkwardly put his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away. She leaned her head into his hand, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

In just a matter of moments, the two came together in a soft kiss. The moment was quiet as the two did their best to remain calm and together as this moment that was little way's overdue continued.

When the two pulled away, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around him. Now she wasn't going to cry about it, but damn was that contact she needed so badly. The Death Card and The Shape were basically Yin and Yang with how one is emotional and the other in emotionless but their need for pain and each other is what kept it healthy.

Just imagine how much suffering families went through since the two got out.